Gate Builders
by De Brussyere
Summary: Currently Rewriting. Harry's first year at Hogwarts if a few things had gone differently and if SG were part of the same world.
1. Book 1: Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Prologue**

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~8,000 B.C.

The hall was almost deserted. Only one person, a middle aged but still beautiful woman, stood still as a stone, overlooking the empty hall. All around her on the floor were piles of clothing. It looked as if thousands of people had simply taken their clothes off and exited the room, leaving their clothes in a heap on the ground.

Footsteps sounded from outside the hall. Someone was running. The door retracted into the wall with a hiss. An older man with graying hair ran through the doorway and halted immediately upon seeing the state of the room. His gaze wandered across the room as if recognizing every pile of clothing for the person that wore them. He sank to his knees in shock.

"You missed them. They left." Said the woman standing in the center of the room.

The man choked back a sob. "All of them?" He asked. The woman turned to face him and nodded. "Everyone who was anyone. The scientists, the historians, the warriors, the entire high council-"

"Not the entire council. We're still here." He said interrupting her. She raised a dark eyebrow. "We are, but for how long?" She shot back.

He looked up at her. "Why didn't you go?" She sighed and walk over to him. She helped him get to his feet. "I was waiting for you. Why didn't you come when you were summoned?"

"I didn't want to." He said with a grin. "Just because I can does not mean I want to go on forever."

She brought a hand up to stroke his cheek. "You were never a good liar Moros. Criminally honest I say."

He snorted. "Fine. I have too much unfinished business. Too much keeping me tethered to this plane. I couldn't ascend if I wanted to."

The woman smiled and pecked him on the lips. "Will you join us when you finish?"

Moros clenched his teeth and stared into her eyes. "You're leaving me." He stated unhappily. She nodded. "There is nothing more for me to do here. I have done everything I could possibly do to ensure our kind go on. It's time for me to go."

Moros shook his head. "There is so much we can still do. We can teach them. Help them grow!" She silenced him with another kiss. "That is not for you or me to do. And when you realize that I will be waiting for you." Her skin started to glow a bright white. Moros stepped back. She rose up into the air surrounded by tendrils of energy lashing at the air around her.

"Goodbye my love." She said with a smile. Her clothes dropped to the floor in a pile and her features became indiscernible in a glowing mass of energy. The energy floated up through the ceiling and out of sight. Moros swallowed and another tear dripped from his face. "Goodbye Morgana"

A beep sounded from a console by the wall, breaking Moros out of his stupor. He walked over to it curiously. His breath caught in his throat at what he saw. A very large pyramid shaped spaceship had entered the system and was on a course for the planet. And there was no way he, or the handful of Alterans left scattered over the face of the planet, could stop them.

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**Chapter 1**

**The Boy Who Lived**

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The roar of an engine thundered as a large silhouette flew through the sky. It was so large it seemed to eclipse the moon, and it looked very much like a bear on a toy motorcycle. The silhouette careened down towards the street. It landed with a squeak of tires as it came to a halt. The silhouette turned out to be not a bear on a toy motorcycle but in fact an enormous man with a thick black beard and mane of hair, sitting atop a perfectly normal sized motorcycle. Actually the motorcycle was quite big but was dwarfed by its rider. The rider wore a heavy brown coat. His hand were the size of tennis rackets with thick sausage like fingers. His equally large feet were covered in black leather boots.

The man stepped off the vehicle and marched to a gigantic black gate, large even in comparison to him. The gate opened and behind it stood a thin old man, tall but nowhere near the higher of this giant. He wore a purple robe and a tall purple pointy hat, both adorned with stars that actually twinkled. He had small half moon glasses that pinched the end of his oversized hook nose, and possessed a long white beard that descended to his abdomen. "How is he?" Asked the man in purple.

The large man opened his thick brown coat to reveal a bundle of blankets strapped to his chest. He removed it and handed it over to the purple wearing man. His gruff voice came out choked and scratchy. "Fell asleep as soon as we took off." He sniffled a bit and wiped his eyes on a bath towel sized handkerchief. "Poor boy."

The star spangled man nodded in agreement, accepting the bundle. "Yes. Such an unfortunately situation." He removed part of the blankets to reveal the small face of an infant. "Thank you Hagrid. No trouble was there?"

Hagrid stuff his handkerchief away. "No sir. House was almost destroyed. I got him out before the muggles could swarm it."

The old man nodded again. He looked up curiously. "Hagrid, wherever did you get that motorcycle?"

Hagrid looked back. "Oh, borrowed it. Young Sirius Black was at the house when I arrived. Wanted to take Harry but I told him I had orders. He lent me the bike so I could could reach you faster."

The other man nodded once more and covered the child again. "Thank you again Hagrid. I will make sure Harry gets where he needs to go. Good night."

"Good night sir."

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were normal. They had a normal son named Dudley, who was prone to normal tantrums. They lived in a normal house in a normal neighborhood on Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. Vernon sat down on his normal sofa, with his normal cup of tea and his normal Sunday newspaper. Though on any other day of the week Vernon would be off bamboozling someone into a contract or swindling a client out of money, today was his day off. November 1st 1981. Vernon was a normal salesman for a normal drill manufacturer Grunnings, and he took great pride in his work. He also took great pride in being normal.

Nothing was amiss. His routine had so far gotten on without a hitch. He woke up, ate breakfast, watched Petunia feed their little angel, and sat down to enjoy his day off.

After finishing the paper Vernon turned to the telly. Turning it on he was welcomes by a news anchor and a picture of an owl floating in the corner of the screen.

"Experts are at a loss to explain the peculiar change in owl sleeping patterns. The activity all over Britain is astounding. Whole flocks of owls traveling in broad daylight. Some eyewitnesses swear to have seen owls carrying letters in their beaks-"

Vernon frowned and tuned out the anchor. _Owls?_ He thought. _With letters?_ There was something dreadfully familiar about that concept. He turned to Petunia who was tickling little Dudley under the chin.

"Pet darling-" He paused, unsure how to formulate his question without upsetting his wife. "Your sister's people." He struggled over calling them people. Petunia stiffened. Petunia's sister Lily was a subject neither of them like to discuss. She had married a man named Potter, Jack or Jerry or something like that. Vernon recalled they had a son a few months younger than their own. From what he remembered they were part of a strange cult of some sort that waved wands and performed freaking parlor tricks. Too far off from Vernon's prized normality to be any sort of good. Vernon continued hesitantly. "How do they send letters again?"

Petunia rose and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "They use owls to carry their post. Why?"

Vernon shook his head, deciding not to upset his wife more by continuing on that topic of discussion. "Never mind dear. Just a thought is all" He turned back to the telly. The anchor had passed the show over to the weather report. "We will see lots of mist this evening, with a 70% chance of slight showers-" Vernon turned off the telly. He stretched and told Petunia he was heading out for a walk.

As he walked to the end of Privet Drive Vernon couldn't help but notice a certain cat. It was a grey tabby with peculiar markings around its eyes, and it was perched rather stiffly upon a fence, staring up at the street sign. _Reading it? _Of course Vernon dismissed the thought as soon as it passed through his mind. Cats couldn't read. How preposterous. The cat glanced his way, then turned back to the sign as if finding Vernon completely uninteresting.

Upon reach the town center, Vernon tried desperately to put the morning's eccentricities out of his mind, but the number of owls swooping around would not let him forget. He too swore he spotted a letter on some of those owls. So deep in thought he walk much farther than he normally would have and found himself out of breath. He decided to stop at a café. While sipping a cup of tea he looked around at the people running about minding their business as was the habit for normal ol' Little Whinging.

Then he saw them. More disturbing than the owls with letters were the people gathering in little pockets of excitement. People wearing robes in outrageous colors and absurd looking pointed hats. Vernon turned away to ignore them but his attention was dragged back to them upon catching bits of their conversations "-The Potters. I heard-" "-Yes, little Harry Potter-" "-Only a scar they say-" "-You-Know-Who gone at last-".

Vernon dropped his tab on the table left. It couldn't possibly be the same Potters could it? James. That was the name of his brother-in-law he remembered no. And Harry? Was that their son? He was so preoccupied he didn't notice the old man in the purple robe that he barreled into. The old man landed on his rear. "I'm sorry." Vernon mumbled. The old man bounced back to his feet. "Oh no need to be sorry. Nothing could possibly spoil my mood today. Why even a muggle like yourself should be celebrating!"

Vernon raged. He stomped all the way back to his home. How could they wander about in broad daylight? Was it no longer a cult's prerogative to be secretive? He dreaded what that could mean for the normality of the neighborhood.

Vernon paused at the door. He glanced toward the dining room window to check whether he had seen what he thought he had seen. Sure enough the grey tabby he had seen earlier sat on the window sill, peering into the house. How very odd.

He composed himself before heading into the kitchen where his wife was making lunch. He sat down at the head of the table and cleared his throat. "Darling I was wondering. Your sister-" Petunia stiffened again. "Why the sudden interest? She asked him. "No reason. I was just thinking. She has a son hasn't she? Harvey wasn't it?" Petunia returned to her cooking. "Harry. Horrid common name it is. Not like our Dudley." Vernon agreed.

The rest of the day passed without a hitch. None of the strange people encroached upon the normal atmosphere of Privet Drive. After putting a whining Dudley to bed Vernon decided it was no use to trouble himself over the oddities of the morning. Perhaps it was all coincidence? After all, today being November 1st, last night had been Halloween. Perhaps the strange people at the town center were simply left over partygoers from the previous night's holiday. And if there were in fact something having to do with the Potters going on, there would be no reason it should affect him or his family. In any case, Vernon doubted these disturbances would continue for too much longer. He only needed to wait it out. Nothing could shatter his beloved normal.

Vernon Dursley was wrong.

While Vernon was heading off to a comfortable bed, the cat outside sat on the much less comfortable concrete of the side walk, just off the property of #4 Privet Drive. Its eyes were fixed on the street corner as if waiting for something to happen. It didn't even blink at the sounds of backfiring cars, shouting neighbors, or squawking birds. It stayed still past midnight and only moved when a tall, old, bearded man appeared out of thin air on the corner it had been watching.

The cat flicked its tail and narrowed its eyes at the man. He was dressed in a purple robe and a pointy hat, both covered in stars. The man fished what appeared to be a lighter from his pocket and clicked it. The streetlamp nearest him went dark. He clicked it again and another lamp went out. Click after click all the lamps went out on Privet Drive and the man was left standing on a dark street corner, lit only by the stars on his clothing.

He slipped his put-outer back into his pocketed and ambled over to #4, a basket swinging lightly on his elbow. He stopped in front of the cat. Only it was no longer a cat but a middle aged woman with a stern expression. "Had I known you were going to wait until midnight I might have opted out entirely." She said in a scottish brogue. "Have you any idea how long I've been waiting, Albus Dumbledore?"

The old man's eyes twinkled like the stars on his robe. "My dear Professor McGonagall, I needed someone to watch this residence closely lest someone suspect we might bring the boy here."

McGonagall's eyes widened. She looked desperately between Dumbledore and #4 Privet Drive. "You can't possibly mean these people! Why I've never seen a worse bunch of muggles in my life! I swear their son was kicking his mother, screaming for sweets. Dreadful child that one." Dumbledore's expression darkened. "I'm afraid so. They are the last family he has."

McGonagall's shoulders slumped and her jaw slackened. "So it's true then?" Her voice broke. "What they've been saying? Lily and James Potter dead, and You-Know-Who-gone?" She looked hopefully into Dumbledore's eyes.

He nodded. "It would appear so." A sad smile stretched McGonagall's lips. "I dared not hope. After 11 years of torment, the Dark Lord finally vanquished. And by a child no less." She chuckled but lost her smile quickly as her eyes found the basket. "But the cost- Is there no other way Albus? Any family would love to raise the child who defeated the Dark Lord. He'll be famous-"

"Precisely." Dumbledore interjected. "And any of the Dark Lord's supporters would relish the chance to kill the one who destroyed their master. No, he must stay here. Away from the spot light. I've written a letter to his Aunt and Uncle with instructions to explain everything to him when he is older."

McGonagall shook her head and dabbed her teary eyes. "This is a mistake Albus."

Dumbledore stepped up to the door of #4 and placed the basket in front of it. "It's the only way." He muttered.

Dumbledore and McGonagall walked side by side to the end of Privet Drive. Dumbledore took one last glance back at the basket, barely visible on the step of #4. "Good luck Harry." And with a pop they both disappeared.

Harry snuggled into his blankets, his small hand clutching the letter. He could not have known that come morning his Aunt would wake him up with a shriek, nor that for the foreseeable future he would be his cousin's new favorite plaything. He also could not have known that for weeks to come, people all over Britain would be raising their glasses and saying "To Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived."

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**Thank you for reading and reviewing. I don't have a Beta so please tell me if there are too many typos. Flame is not appreciated but I will consider suggestions.**


	2. Book 1: Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 2**

**Acceptance**

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Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had been greeted by their infant nephew in a basket on their front step. Hardly anything had changed on Privet Drive and it would appear that was the case for #4 as well. The elder Dursleys occupied the master bedroom. Dudley had made his mark on his own room, as well as his play room which was filled with broken toy and nicknacks. The photographs on the mantle above the Dursleys' fireplace were of a cartoonish family. Petunia with her long skinny neck, Vernon's thick frame, and Dudley nestled between them, forcing them a good three feet apart. Even the breakfast table had only three chairs. Most neighbors would be surprised to hear a second boy lived in the house but the truth was Harry Potter did live there.

Harry was sleeping at the moment. Lying on a cot inside the cupboard under the stair. It had been Harry's bedroom as far back as he could remember. Harry wouldn't remain asleep much longer though. His aunt Petunia rapped repeatedly on the door, startling Harry out of a dream about a flying motorcycle. "Get up." She said angrily, twisting the lock open. "You can't sleep in all day. It's Dudley's birthday and he needs his breakfast. I want it all to go perfectly."

It was actually only nine in the morning, and Dudley would most likely not be up for another couple hours. Harry also could not have been expected to get up until his cupboard was unlocked, but he mumbled "Yes Aunt Petunia" anyway and started to get dressed. His clothes were in fact Dudley's clothing that had been outgrown at least two years prior. Harry was small for his age and very thin, which was accentuated by the tent-like cast offs he wore. Harry thought his size might be due to his spending most of his time locked in a cupboard.

He walked into the kitchen and manned the stove, upon which sat frying pans full of already cooking eggs, bacon and sausage. He tried his best to ignore the stacks of presents piled high on and around the breakfast table. Harry had received only one birthday present during his time with the Dursleys. It had been a spatula for his 7th birthday when he was first taught to cook for the family. He hadn't even gotten to hold it long before it joined the rest of his Aunt Petunia's utensils, as Harry wasn't allowed to actually own anything.

Dudley strutted into the kitchen with a grin on his face. It left as soon as he spotted the piles of presents and he developed a look of deep concentration. After a while he seemed to give up and asked how many packages there were. Harry tuned out the rest of the conversation which consisted of Dudley whining pitifully and his parents agreeing to buy him some more presents. Harry slid the plates full of food onto the almost completely gift-covered table and stood in a corner waiting. He felt it best to avoid being part of these conversations because they often ended in Harry losing a privilege he didn't know he had, all because Dudley found reason to be jealous.

His trance was broken, however, when the phone in the hall gave a shrill ringing. Petunia left to get it as Dudley opened one of his presents, a new video camera.

Petunia returned looking distressed. "What was it, Pet darling?" Asked Vernon. Petunia wrung her hands. "That was Mrs. Figg. She's broken her leg. She can't take the boy." Vernon's jaw dropped. "But what will we do with him?"

Harry was rejoicing inside. Every time the Dursley's went on a trip they elected to leave him with her while they had fun at the beach, on a cruise, or at an amusement park somewhere. Harry didn't think spending more time with them would be particularly pleasant but anything would be better than getting clawed by hoards of cats and fed stale biscuits. Harry chose to voice a suggestion. "I could stay here."

Petunia barely acknowledge he had spoken by saying "And find the house a mess when we get back? I think not."

Vernon spoke up next. "I suppose there's nothing else to be done. We'll have to bring him." Dudley nearly dropped his new camera. "But I don't want him to come! He'll ruin everything!" His tantrum went on until a knock sounded at the door, prompting him to cease immediately. He still sent a glare back Harry's way.

At the door was Piers Polkis, a friend of Dudley's and his perpetual shadow when he went around terrorizing other children. Piers would be accompanying them for Dudley's birthday and the family was going to the zoo. Before heading out Vernon pulled Harry aside. He warned him that if anything strange happened during the trip he would be in his cupboard for a month. The Dursleys seemed to blame a lot of things on Harry. Granted strange things did often happen around him. He had once been chased by Dudley and his gang and found himself on the roof after wishing it. As they squeezed into the car Dudley complained to Piers about having to bring Harry along. Harry just kept quiet until they reached their destination.

At the zoo all three of the children were having a blast, although Harry hung back from the other two, intent on having as little of their attention on him as possible. After a while Dudley and Piers became tired from the heat of the sun and the Dursley's bought them ice cream to cool off. Vernon glared at Harry when the clerk asked him what he wanted so he begged off politely.

The day at the zoo continued relatively peacefully until they reached the primate section. Cage after cage were apes, monkeys, and other strange looking animals Harry had never seen before. Dudley and Piers were rattling the bars and throwing peanuts at an orangutan who seemed to be trying to sleep with its long arm draped over its eyes. Duduley declared it boring and stomped off to look at the lemurs, followed closely by Piers. Harry scooted in to read the sign in front of the orangutan cage.

Bornean Orangutan Pongo Pygmaeus

The only Great Ape to live exclusively in Asia. One of the most intelligent species of ape. Known to use a variety of sophisticated tools.

Harry looked up at the orangutan and saw it lift its arm off its face and glance around to make sure the annoying kids were gone. It seemed to sigh in relief before it caught sight of Harry. He stared in bewilderment at its remarkably human actions. The orangutan winked and nodded towards Dudley. Harry grinned. He leaned forward. "I know how you feel. He does it to me all the time." The orangutan bobbed up and down letting out a guttural chuckle. It nodded towards Dudley again and slapped the log next to it looking pointedly at Harry.

Harry walked up to the cage and leaned against the bars. "I'd love to sometimes, believe me. But he's so much stronger than I am." The orangutan let out a soft cry of protest. Then it grabbed a small branch and munched on the leaves before hoisting itself up with two branches. It proceeded to do a series of pull-ups between the branches. Harry heard an excited yell from behind him before he was shoved out of the way and on to the floor. The orangutan stopped its pull-ups as Piers leaned in the watch it. He called Dudley over who took Harry's place in leaning against the bars. Harry not happy, in fact he was quite angry. The next thing he knew the bars became like soft rubber. Dudley, who had been pushing all his considerable weight against the bars, lost his grip and fell through them into the cage. The bars instantly hardened again behind him.

Dudley screamed as the orangutan descended upon him and wrapped its arms around him. Harry's eyes widened in worry until the orangutan winked at him again. It cradled Dudley in one arm and stroked his hair with the other before giving him a long wet kiss on the top of his head.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for the guards to pry Dudley from the orangutan's loving arms. Petunia was frantic the entire time, sobbing above her poor baby and the disgusting animal trying to eat him. Vernon, however, wasted no time in finding a target for his anger. He fixed Harry with a glare and his faces became more and more purple as the minutes passed.

When they got back home Vernon let Petunia lead Dudley in for a hot chocolate and some cake while he stayed outside with Harry's collar firmly in his grip. He forced Harry to face him and blew up. "How dare you, you miserable freak! We were kind enough to take you along and you bring your unnaturalness with you!" Harry wanted to say he had suggested they leave him home but he doubted it would help the situation. Instead he said "I didn't anything! The bars just melted like magic."

He knew immediately he had said the wrong thing as Vernon roared, dragging him into the house and shoving him into his cupboard. He locked it viciously and growled "There's no such thing as magic!"

It was already the summer holidays by the time Harry was let out of the cupboard for more than a trip to the bathroom. He had spent that time thinking about his encounter at the zoo. He was sure the orangutan had been telling him to strengthen his body, just as he was sure he had been the one to soften the bars somehow. He recalled other instances he had made strange things happen. There was the incident where he appeared on the school roof, the time he had grown his hair back after a botched hair cut, and once he had even turned a teacher's wig blue.

He remembered being highly emotional in each case but could he cause these things to happen just by wanting them to? He had tried to wish his door open without success so far and had instead concentrated on his other realization. He was weak. Sure he could run fast but could he stand up and fight? _Not a chance._ Thought Harry. So he had started doing push-ups. Unfortunately his poor nutrition prevented him from doing many but he had managed to increase his endurance slightly while locked in the cupboard.

When he was finally let out he was told to make breakfast and he entered his routine of preparing a meal for his relatives while he was left to munch a piece of toast in the corner. He did manage to swipe a sausage this time around.

The mail slot clicked as letters were pushed through it. Vernon ordered Harry to fetch them. Harry decided not to argue. He didn't want to go back into his cupboard just yet. He saw three letters on the floor in the entrance. One was a plain brown envelope Harry guessed was a bill, the second was a postcard from Vernon's sister Marge who was on vacation, and the last was a heavy parchment paper envelope with a purple wax seal on it. It had a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven surrounding a large H. He flipped it over and nearly dropped it as he saw the address in bright green ink.

Mr. Harry Potter Cupboard Under the Stairs #4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey

He thought it might be a prank but who other than the Dursleys knew about his cupboard? He stared at it as he walked back into the kitchen and handed off the bill and post card to Vernon. He started to head towards his cupboard to read his letter when Dudley yelled. "Dad! Dad! Harry's got a letter!" He snatched it from Harry's hands a handed it to his father. "That's mine!" Harry said angrily. Vernon chuckled. "Nonsense. Who'd write to you?" He opened the letter and skimmed it. His face turned white.

"P-P-Petunia?" Petunia took the letter and read it. Her grip tightened on the parchment making it crinkle. Dudley bounce up to try and get a look "I want to see! Give me a look!" Harry indignantly said "I want to see. It's my letter."

Vernon stood up and started pushing Harry and Dudley out of the kitchen. "Out! Both of you!" He closed the door behind them. Both children made a dash for the key hole to peek in. Dudley elbowed Harry in the ribs and crouched in front of the key hole. Harry settled for listening to the barely restrained voices on the other side.

"What do we do Vernon?" came Petunia's panicked voice. "We said we'd not have one in the house."

"And I don't intend to go back on those words!" Roared Vernon, breathing heavily. He continued in a calmer voice. "We've done our best to stomp it out of him. I won't let our efforts go to waste."

"But they have his cupboard on the letter!" Petunia cried. "What if they're watching?" Harry heard the ripping of paper and he could guess which paper it was. Vernon grumbled so Harry could barely hear. "If we ignore the letter that'll be the end of it. They'll give up. He won't be going anywhere."

As night fell Harry wondered if Vernon was right and the senders, whoever they were, would give up if they didn't receive a reply.

He got his answer the next morning when Petunia screamed from the doorway. When everyone rushed over to see what the problem was Harry spotted a letter in her hand addressed to:

Mr. Harry Potter Cupboard Under the Stairs #4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey

Vernon quickly took the letter from her and brought it into the kitchen to burn it on the stove. Harry was exempt from chores that day and was let out of his cupboard only for meals and bathroom break.

Harry pondered his aunt and uncle's conversation the previous day. "They'll give up. He won't be going anywhere." His uncle had said. _They? Going? _Was it possible someone wanted to take him away from #4 Privet Drive? "We've done our best to stomp it out of him."_ Stomp what?_

And then Harry remembered the day at the zoo and the one word that had gotten him locked in his cupboard for the longest he'd ever been. Magic.

He sat up in his cupboard and stared at the door as he had while he had been locked in and once again tried to wish the door to open. It did. Unfortunately it was not by any of Harry's doing but by his uncle yanking it open.

His uncle looked angry but then schooled his features. "Your Aunt and I have decided you've outgrown-" He glanced around the cupboard. "-your room." He finished hesitantly. "We've decided to move you into Dudley's second room."

Harry assumed this had something to do with whoever sent the letter knowing about his cupboard. He wasn't about to complain. While he didn't mind waking up covered in spiders anymore, he wouldn't miss them. He could hear Dudley complaining to his mother while Vernon set up a bed for Harry, and then to his father while Petunia covered it in stained sheets and a holed blanket. He knew he would pay for this luxury later but knew he would enjoy it until then.

That night Harry formed a plan. He would get up early and sneak out before anyone else was awake, and he would wait on the corner for the postman to come. He rolled over with a grin at his ingenious plan but then jumped when something tapped on his window. He turned and saw, perched on his windowsill, a grey and brown barn owl. It was holding a letter in its beak. He read the address.

Mr. Harry Potter Smallest Bedroom #4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey

Harry rushed to the window and opened it. The owl flew in. Harry quickly closed the window in case the owl flew away before he could take the letter from it. He turned around to see the owl sitting patiently on his bed with the letter at its feet. So excited he was, it didn't even cross his mind how unusual it was to have an owl deliver him a letter. He tore open the purple H seal and extracted to letter from the envelope. He read it carefully.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL_ _of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_ _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_ _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._ _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_ _Deputy Headmistress_

Harry could not believe his eyes. His first thought was that it was a prank by Dudley but his cousin had been just as curious as he when the first letter had come. Besides how could Dudley have trained an owl to deliver letters? Harry's thoughts turned once more to his apparent ability to make things happen. _I'm not alone. _He thought. There were more people like him. They even had a school. He pulled out the supply list the letter mentioned. _HOGWARTS SCHOOL_ _of WHICHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_ _First-year students will require:_ _3 sets of plain work robes (black)_ _1 plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_ _1 pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_ _1 winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)_ _Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_COURSE BOOKS_ _All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ _by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ _by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ _by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_ _1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_ _1 set glass or crystal phials_ _1 telescope_ _1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring and owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Harry briefly considered that it might be a prank after all. Pointed hats? He hoped he wasn't expected to wear it every day. As he reached the wand on the list he though maybe that was why he could not get the door to open by wishing it. Perhaps you needed a wand and a spell to do magic. But no, he recalled he had made things happen long before he even knew wands really existed.

Harry looked around for something to try to perform magic on. He picked up a broken crayon and put the two halves back together then shut his eyes, wishing it would become whole again. Nothing happened. Harry hoped they could teach him how to do it at the school. Harry knew these things were possible._ I've done this kind of thing before_. He thought. _Maybe I just need to learn how to control it._

He looked back down at the letter. _We await your owl by no later than July 31. _That was Harry's birthday and it was only a week away. "What do they mean await my owl?" Harry muttered. The owl on his bed hooted. Harry jumped having forgotten it was there. He glanced from the owl to the letter and back again. "If I write a response, will you take it?" He asked hesitantly, not expecting a response. But the owl, like the orangutan in the zoo, showed itself to be remarkably intelligent and strangely human-like. It gave him a nod.

Harry quickly located a piece of paper, tearing it out of an unused notebook that had once been Dudley's and used the broken crayon to begin a bright red reply.

_To whom it may concern,_

_I would like to enroll in your school of witchcraft and wizardry but I am not sure where I can obtain my supplies._

Harry paused and then started to panic. There was no way Vernon would pay for his supplies. Or even tuition if there was any. He calmed himself and proceeded.

_I would also be interested to know if you have any form of waiver or aid for students in underprivileged situations._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Harry's stomach felt heavy. He had used as adult language as he could managed. Maybe he'd could get in on an academic scholarship if he impressed them. But his untidy scrawl in bright red crayon all but dashed his hopes of ever going to this Hogwarts. And he knew his school record was terrible. He had made sure of it to avoid getting a beating for outshining Dudley.

Harry folded the note and held it out to the owl, who closed its beak on it and opened its wings expectantly. Harry opened the window and watched it fly away until he couldn't see it anymore.

His excitement from reading the letter had plummeted into despondency. He doubted he would ever hear back from anyone regarding Hogwarts. And if he did he expected it to be regrettably informing him his acceptance was withdrawn or that there had been some mistake. Harry thought he had better get used to the fact that he going to Stonewall High and the temporary excitement of receiving letters was now over.

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**Thanks for reviewing. I'll answer questions by reply or in my profile if I think others need to know.**


	3. Book 1: Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 3**

**Magic**

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Minerva McGonagall sat down at her desk, ready for another day of paper work. Enrollments were in full swings. All the pure-bloods had of course enrolled their children at the first sign of magic, most of them many years before their acceptance letter was scheduled to arrive. The half-bloods tended to be more picky, never sure if they wanted their child to learn magic or stay in muggle school. Most of them chose magic simply for the mystique of it. Muggle-borns were the biggest issue. She knew owls rarely stuck around for a return letter, but the Ministry refused to let her deviate from the set script lest she reveal too much about the wizarding world. The fact was most muggles wouldn't have a clue how to send a return owl or even know what that meant, and that was how to pure-blood controlled Ministry liked it. So McGonagall tried her best to get around that by using her own owl Hera to send a few of the acceptance letters. The poor thing wouldn't be able to handle all of them but she had received 8 responses from muggle-borns so far. And that was an unusually large turn out for one year.

It didn't surprise McGonagall to see Hera flying in through her window. But it did surprise when she deposited a sheet of lined paper in front of her then swooped off to her perch. It had obviously been torn out of a muggle notebook, and when she opened it her eyes were assaulted by a horrendous vermillion red writing. It seemed to have been written with colored wax, perhaps a candle. Despite the medium of the note, the message was rather typical of a muggle-born. Their first questions were often about tuition and supplies.

When she saw who the sender was she was somewhat upset to find she was not surprised. "I told you Albus, but you wouldn't listen."

She pulled out a piece of parchment paper and wrote a reply. "Hera finish your meal then take this out for me." Hera hooted in acknowledgement then flapped over to her desk. McGonagall handed her the letter. "Thank you Hera." She said and the owl flew out the window.

Harry was startled awake by his aunt's usual rap at his door in the morning. "Up Harry! Vernon needs his tea." Harry knew his new freedom would come to an end eventually but he had hoped for more than one day. Though that was more than he'd had in a long time so Harry counted his blessings.

Harry wandered into the kitchen and did something so simple he wondered why his relative required him to do it. He poured hot water over tea leaves in a pot, then poured it into a cup. He placed the cup at the table where Vernon would usually sit.

"Out here boy!" Growled Vernon from the entrance hall, obviously having heard the cup meet the table. Harry picked up the cup and brought it with him into the hall. His uncle sat on a chair in the middle of the entrance hall, staring at the mail slot and holding out one hand grasping for the cup that had yet to come. Harry handed it to him. "About bloody time boy." He looked up at Harry, taking a gulp of his tea. He saw Harry's curious gaze and guessed correctly at its cause. "Waiting for the post. Can't have any more of those blasted letters frightening your poor aunt." He turned back to the mail slot when it clicked and envelopes came through. He lunged for them as if Harry might try to get them first. He flipped through them over and over but non of them were made of parchment or had bright green ink on the front.

Harry, having come to terms with not going to Hogwarts, spoke up. "Maybe they sent two of them by mistake. I doubt they'll send another one." Vernon harrumphed. "Darn right they won't. I won't have any of that freakish nonsense in my house."

Harry frowned. They knew. He was sure of it. His aunt and uncle knew about his abilities, and that there were other people like him out there. And they were keeping him from them on purpose. How else would they know what his receiving that letter meant? Why would they be so afraid of who was sending the letter? Why would they have tried to beat it out of him if they didn't know about it. No, they knew. And they didn't like it.

Harry needed some fresh air. As soon as his uncle vacated the entrance Harry slipped out the door and headed for the local park. It was deserted as it was most of the time. Dudley's gang had claimed and since none of the kids could ever know whether Dudley was there or not they avoided it like the plague. Harry, on the other hand, lived with Dudley and so knew when it was safe to trespass.

He sat down on a swing and started to rock back and forth. Then he came to a sudden halt and a grin appeared on his face. If he could make things happen on his own before then he could do it again. So he wouldn't be going to Hogwarts. So what? He just needed to practice. Vernon had said he wouldn't have any "freakish nonsense" in his house so he would have to practice in secret. A deserted playground was secret enough. Harry glanced around and found no one in the area. _Perfect!_

When he had tried opening his door he had wished it open, but when he had done things before he hadn't been wishing for them to happen. His shoulders slumped. _What if it's needing? _How could he practice something that only happened when he needed it to? But no, he hadn't needed the bars to melt on the orangutan's cage. He had been wanting it to happen. He had willed it.

Harry spotted a candy wrapper on the ground. He fixed his gaze on it and thought. _I'll make it catch fire. _He furrowed his brow and stared at the wrapper intently. His grip tightened on the chains of the swing. He wanted this. Harry wanted the wrapper to be on fire more than anything. _Fire! _He screamed in his mind. Instead he got smoke. A tiny wisp of smoke rose from the wrapper. Harry's eyes widened. _Fire! Fire! Fire! _He thought desperately. But the smoke ceased, leaving the wrapper only with slightly darkened edges. Harry closed his eyes firmly. He could do this. He abandoned the words and simply pictured the wrapper exploding into a torrent of flames. Harry felt a tingling begin to swell inside his chest. He heard a crackle. His eyes shot open then heard another one accompanied by a spark.

He glared viciously at the wrapper. He willed it with all his might to become engulfed in fire. He pushed as hard as he could with his mind. The tingling feeling rushed out of his chest rendering him breathless, and a small flame ignited on the wrapper. It began to crinkle and sizzle.

_Yes! _So engrossed in his success Harry was scared right off the swig when an owl hooted from the tree behind him. _An owl in broad day light? _Harry wondered if he would ever not jump from hearing an owl hoot. It was getting bothersome. The owls flew down to the swing Harry had just emptied. Harry recognized it as the owl from last night, and it was carrying another letter. He lunged forward to grab it but the owl flew into the air with an indignant hoot dropping the letter to the floor. "Sorry." Harry said to the owl as it flew away. He grabbed the letter off the ground. It was address in black ink this time to simply Mr. Harry Potter.

He hesitated. What if it was a rejection letter like he expected? He decided he didn't care. He ripped open the same purple seal as last time and pulled the letter out.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_All of your questions can be answered in person at the Orientation to Magic. We will be meeting in Madame Jagmitten's Books and Coffee at 82 Charing Cross Rd, London, on the morning of August 3rd at 10 o'clock._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress_

Harry blinked. It wasn't a rejection after all. In fact it was better than he had dared imagine. An orientation. That must mean others his own age being introduced to magic for the first time as well. A thought struck Harry. What if he was the only one who didn't know anything about magic because the Dursleys were afraid of it? What if they had actually managed to stomp the magic out of him and that was why he had so much trouble making the door open or the wrapper burn? He resolved himself to practice every day in secret until August 3rd so he could get as close as possible to the level the other children no doubt had already reached.

Harry realized he had spent a few hours staring at the wrapper judging by the position of the sun. He headed back to #4 so he would not be missed and punished for being out without permission. As he entered he passed the living room and saw his aunt sitting very still on the sofa. He stopped to look. She had her back to him and wasn't moving, but on closer inspection he thought she might be trembling. He slowly walked into the living room and inched around the couch to see what she might be doing. He found that she was staring down at a photograph of two young teenagers. One was a redheaded girl with eyes that reminded Harry of his own, and the other was a boy with long straight hair and onyx eyes. Both had an arm around the other and they were grinning at the camera. Harry turned his attention to his aunt and found the trembling he had seen was because she was crying. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was biting her lip to catch the sobs that threatened to emerge. Harry had never felt any abundance of compassion for his aunt but he thought any human would feel pity if they saw someone in such a state.

Harry weighed the pros and cons of asking what was wrong. His aunt had never been outright mean to him. She had mostly ignored him or bossed him around and told him not to ask questions. Any punishment would probably be minor, like washing the dishes. On the other hand if she said something to Vernon he might be sent back to his cupboard. Despite the serious disappointment that would be, he found he couldn't ignore someone in need when they were right in front of him. So he did what he wasn't supposed to. He asked a question.

Harry cleared his throat, startling Petunia. "Are you alright aunt Petunia?" She gasped and her head spun to face him. She looked away from him and swallowed, trying to regain her composure. She put the picture she was holding into a box sitting in front of her. The box was full of pictures and small trinkets, and on the side it was labeled "Lily". She sat back in the sofa and took a deep breath. Harry thought she might answer him but instead she rose up, bent down to grab the box, and left without looking at him again. Harry stood confused for a second. Then he swallowed nervously and headed up to his room. While he felt he had done the right thing in trying to comfort his aunt, he thought he was going back to the cupboard for sure. But then again, she hadn't seemed all that upset at Harry for disturbing her. He deiced not to dwell on it. He'd find out soon enough whether she said anything to Vernon.

The next day nothing particularly unpleasant happened. Vernon's only concern was making sure no more letters arrived. Almost a week later the Dursleys seemed to feel comfortable that whoever had sent the letters would not be sending any others. Harry was allowed to keep his new bedroom but the threat still loomed that if anything out of the ordinary happened he would be locked in the cupboard again just as before. Dudley had tried to argue that the letters were out of the ordinary and Harry should be locked up for them but Petunia drew his attention away by offering more mashed potatoes.

A very strange development that Harry wasn't sure how to feel about was that Petunia had changed the way she treated him. He had always been woken up by his aunt calling him boy and endured her nagging. But the last week she seemed to make an effort to call him Harry and ask him to do things instead of ordering. She never defended Harry when Vernon would blow his top at him but she would catch him later on and compliment his work. She had even brought Harry lunch when Vernon had secluded him to his room. It was a welcome change but he didn't want to hope it would last.

He had spent the week trying to will things to happen. He came to call the tingling in his chest his magic. It still took time but Harry was slowly learning to conjure up the tingling at will after a few minutes of concentration. He had learned that by calling up his magic and pushing it into an object he could affect that object. It had taken a good two hours but he had managed to turn his bed sheet from sweat stained off-white to a light blue. He also reminded himself he needed to get his body in shape in order to be able to defend himself. If anything could remind him of his weakness it was a good shove from Vernon. He returned to his twenty push ups in the morning that he had neglected after finally escaping his cupboard, trying to push his limit every time. He started to feel stronger now that Petunia was feeding him on the sly. Even though he still couldn't do much more then the twenty push ups. He was determined to keep trying. He hoped some day he might make up for his years of being stunted and would eventually be able to hold his own in a fight.

Tonight was Harry's birthday. He didn't expect to receive anything but he was excited nonetheless. He always stayed up and counted down to midnight so that, even if no one else did, he could celebrate the passing of one more year of his life.

He had found an old watch of Dudley's on the floor of his room. The face was cracked which explained why it was discarded. Harry had no idea if it was on time but he was staring at it anyway, counting down the seconds as the time neared midnight. _three, two, one... Happy Birthday to me._

Harry was surprised by a tapping at the window. He saw an owl there with a package in its claws and it was pecking on the glass. It was a different owl this time which he assumed meant a different sender. He opened the window and the owl swooped in. It dropped the package on his bed and flew right out of the window. Harry closed the window behind it and examined the package. It was wrapped in what looked like deep purple leather with a long thin tooth pinning it closed. Harry cautiously removed the tooth and unwrapped the leather revealing inside was full of little chocolate muffins with green icing on them, spelling a sloppy "Hparp yiBtdhay". Harry thought the owl must have been in a hurry and fumbled the package. He imagined the muffins had once spelled Happy Birthday but could not imagine who might have sent them. He spotted a note peaking out from in between the muffins and set them aside. He picked up the note and opened it.

_Dear Harry_

_You probably don't remember me cause you were a baby when I last saw you and you were asleep at the time when I took you from your parents house but Dumbledore said you had accepted your invitation to Hogwarts so I thought I'd send you a present to welcome you into the greatest school ever created_

_Happy Birthday_

_Hagrid_

Harry took a moment to recover from the lack of any punctuation. Whoever had written this probably didn't write letters, or anything at all, often. He then turned his attention to the subject of the letter. Who was this person? Whoever Hagrid was, he had given no way of identifying him. He remembered the name Dumbledore from somewhere. _The Headmaster of Hogwarts! Supreme Mugsomething...What does this Hagrid have to do with Hogwarts? And why did he take me from my parents house? _Harry was very confused and slightly frightened. Had he been kidnapped? He had been told his parents died in a car accident and that was how he had received the scar on his forehead. Nothing in the letter made sense. He wasn't sure he should even touch the muffins. When he gave one a squeeze he realized he was right, the muffins were rock hard and the icing was probably poisoned or something. Harry started to wonder what kind of world he had exposed himself to by responding to the letter.

Harry thought he would hold off his reservations until after the orientation so as to get a clearer picture before passing judgement. That left the question; how to get to the orientation, which was in four days time.

In the morning Harry was woken by two soft knocks on his door, as had become the usual instead of the harsh rapping. "Breakfast, Harry" His aunt called through the door. Harry got dressed and joined his aunt in the kitchen where he could hear bacon frying. He discovered his uncle was not siting at the table. He started for the stove but his aunt put a hand on his shoulder, leading him over to sit at the table. When he sat down she continued to cook the sizzling bacon. A few minutes later she placed a plate full of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of him. She sat with him and dug into her own breakfast while Harry stared at her in bewilderment until she reminded him to eat.

Harry took a couple small bites then asked. "Aunt Petunia, why are you being so nice to me?" His aunt did not look at him but responded. "It's your birthday." Harry shook his head. "Thank you for remembering but I meant all week."

Petunia put down her fork and sighed. She sat still, looking out into nothing. Harry thought she wouldn't say anything more but she did. "When you arrived, you came with a letter. It told me that my sister and her husband had been murdered, and that I was to take care of you-" "But you said-" Harry tried to interrupt, but his aunt held up her hand to stall him. "When we were young, my sister had...abilities. She was invited to a school to practice her abilities. Our parents were so proud of her, while I became the other one. The one who wasn't as skilled, or as charming, or as pretty. And I was always the one left to take responsibility for what she left behind. When she rejected her childhood friend, I comforted him, though he too felt I was the lesser of the two sisters. When our parents died I was left with the task of burying them but was left nothing but a few pounds in their will." She took a shaky breath and turned to Harry. "Then you came, and to me you were just one more thing Lily had thrust onto my shoulders."

She turned away and wrung her hands. Harry gulped, feeling guilty that he longed to hear more about his mother, rather than his aunt's confession.

"But you aren't." She continued. "You're a child. My sister's child. And despite how unfair it all felt to me, Lily always tried her best to share her experiences with me. To make sure we stayed close as sisters are meant to. And I threw it back at her! I said I'd be as normal as I could be, because I'd rather be plain than a freak like her. I lived that lie for far too long and I let it destroy the childhood of my only nephew. The last link I have left to my sister." She put her face in her hands and let out a choked sob.

Harry was speechless. His aunt had allowed her husband to beat him, imprison him in a cupboard, and starve him, and now she was feeling guilty for it. A part of him thought it was rightfully so, and that part refused to let him reach out to her just yet. But he decided to stay and wait for her to recover.

She took another shaky breath and faced Harry again. "The letters you received were not a mistake. They're an invitation to the same school your mother went to. A school of magic. But they stopped coming and your chance is gone." She gestured to his plate. "I have no way to give you back what I cost you. I could only hope to make it up with what little I can do with my...normality." She spat the last word, as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Harry stared down at his plate. She had come clean about his letters and magic. He thought maybe he ought to do the same. He concentrated on his magic and picked up a piece of bacon. He showed it to Petunia. Then he pushed his magic into it and suddenly it turned purple. He didn't show it but he was amazed at how fast he had pulled that off. His aunt gaped at the bacon. "I got the letter aunt Petunia. I accepted. That's why they stopped coming."

Petunia covered her gaping mouth with her hands. "You can't accept! Do you have any idea what Vernon would do if he found out?" Harry nodded and ate the purple bacon. "I'm not sure how yet, but I'm going. There's even an orientation on the 3rd in London."

Petunia looked concerned, and then pensive. "Your uncle left for work early to prepare for a business trip. He leaves for London tomorrow and will be returning on the 5th. He won't know you're gone. And for the school year I could convince Vernon I signed you up for a boarding school."

Harry grinned but stopped when his aunt spoke again. "But how will you get to the orientation or the school? How will you get your supplies?" Harry's shoulders slumped. Then he perked up again. "They said they'd answer those questions at the orientation. I have to get there." Petunia studied him for a second to see if he would say more. When he didn't she stood up. "Finish your breakfast. It'll get cold." She started to leave but Harry called out to her. "Thank you for telling me, aunt Petunia. It means a lot." She gave him a sad smile then left.

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**Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope this is different enough for you.**


	4. Book 1: Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 4**

**Disorientation**

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Harry was in the back of his uncle's car and they were headed for London. Not that Vernon was aware he had a passenger mind you. Harry was well hidden on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats. Vernon's large frame prevented him from turning around enough to see the spot where Harry was hiding so he felt relatively safe.

Harry's mind wondered back to the previous day and his and his aunt's heart to heart of sorts. She had confessed some of her secrets to him, and so he had returned the favor. He wasn't sure if he was regretting it exactly but he still didn't feel quite comfortable with her knowing. She had shown remorse for treating him the way she had, and that gave her a lot of merit in Harry's mind. It may not have fixed all the issues her neglect had caused but she was still his only real family, and yesterday she had shown him the closest thing to love he could ever remember experiencing.

If just one good thing had come out of their conversation it was that Harry now knew his mother's name was Lily. It warmed his heart to learn more about his mysterious parents. He had never wanted to believe that they died in some silly car accident because his father was drunk. He had even fantasized that his mother was somehow a long lost princess and his father her knight in shining armor, or that they were secret agents on the run from terrorist groups and had hidden him with his aunt for protection.

Harry's attention was brought back to the present when the car came to a stop. _Are we there? _He thought. They had barely been on the road for ten minutes but lost in thought as he had been he wasn't sure of the time. The front passenger door opened and a slightly hefty, though nowhere near even half uncle Vernon' size, woman entered the car and sat down.

"Hello darling." She said with a large grin, while batting her eyelashes at Vernon cartoonishly. Vernon replied in his suavest voice which made Harry cringe. "Morning Maggie." They leaned together and shared a noisy and wet kiss.

Harry was shocked. Not only were two adults kissing in front of him, which was not something he had any interest in seeing, but those two adults were his uncle and some lady that was not his aunt Petunia. Though he had known his uncle was a scumbag, an affair was not something he would have guessed his normal uncle was in the habit of entertaining. However this was far from his uncle's first business trip and Harry very much doubted this was his first time kissing Maggie.

When they separated Maggie smiled at Vernon, then as he started the car again her eyes wandered around. They landed square on Harry. She gasped and Harry started to panic. He felt his magic well up inside his chest and he pushed it out at Maggie, willing her to forget she had seen him. He had never consciously used magic on another person before. Though he did recall turning a teacher's wig blue one time. He wasn't sure what the effect would be but it seemed to work as her glaze went blank. As soon as the magic left him Harry felt woozy as if drained.

Having heard her gasp Vernon turn towards her again and asked. "What's wrong dear?" Maggie turned away from Harry and said casually. "Nothing darling. I thought I might have left something but I can't recall what it might have been."

The rest of the ride was uneventful. Harry, being unable to look out the window from his position, was desperately hoping there really was a business meeting in London. Because if this trip was all for an affair Harry had no idea how he was getting to his orientation two days from now. Business trip or no Harry knew he had to exit the car as soon as Vernon parked it. He need to use the bathroom badly. Harry's eyes drooped until he could no longer keep them open.

A screech of the brakes as Vernon stopped the car jerked Harry out of his slumber. He felt refreshed and somehow recharged from his use of magic on Maggie eventually stopped the car in a car park off a fancy looking hotel by the convenient name of The Lancaster London Hotel. After several tries Vernon managed to unbuckle his seatbelt with a grunt. "Well, meeting isn't until 6. We've got plenty of time to make good use of the rooms." Vernon said in what Harry guessed was meant to be a suggestive voice. He could tell it was working for Maggie by her giggle, but it certainly wasn't something Harry wanted to hear ever again. They exited the car and Harry decided to wait a good minute or two before leaving as well. He waited until his bladder was aching very badly and then rushed out. He hoped that Vernon and Maggie had already cleared the lobby because that's where Harry was headed.

He got to the door and almost made it in when a uniformed man caught his arm. "Where do you think you're going? Where are you're parents?" Harry's heart sank and he turned to the man. "Please sir, I really just need the restroom." The guard shook his head. "Not today you don't. This hotel is reserved all week. The Prime Minister himself is staying here." Harry couldn't hold out much longer. He wanted to use the same trick he'd used on Maggie on the guard but the Lancaster Terrace was somewhat more crowded than the car had been and someone might notice. "My uncle just came through here. He's here for Grunnings Drills." The guard sighed. "Alright, go in. But if you come back out without someone I'm calling my superior." He opened the door and Harry rushed in.

His eyes immediately jumped to the sign on the wall to his left that read Restrooms. Harry was inside in a flash and was seconds later relieving himself. He hadn't even noticed the other occupant of the restroom until said person chuckled. "Been holding it long kid?" Harry's eyes shot up and met a middle aged man with slightly thinning brown hair that greyed a bit around his temples. The man was politely looking ahead so Harry did the same. "Yes sir."

The man finished his business and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He eyed Harry's clothes quickly. "You don't really look like the type of crowd to hang around here. I'm surprise they even let you in this week." Harry joined him at the sink. "My uncle is staying here for Grunnings Drills." The man nodded. "You don't say. So am I in a way. This whole conference is about drilling actually. For petrol mostly, but Grunnings makes the drills I use as well. I'm a dentist." Harry let out a simple "Huh," for which he felt stupid but he knew nothing about drills, petrol, or even dentists.

After having dried his hands the man stuck one out towards Harry. "By the way, I'm Eric Granger." Harry hastily finished drying his own before grasping Eric's offered hand. "Harry Potter." Eric nodded. "Tell me Harry, I'm sorry if I seem rude but have you ever seen a dentist before? I couldn't help but notice your teeth are just a tad yellow." Harry pressed his lips together and flushed red in embarrassment. He shook his head. Eric smiled knowingly. "Ah and how often do you brush your teeth?" Harry blushed some more. "I don't sir."

Eric's look turned severe. "That's very silly of you young man. I'm surprised your teeth are in such good shape after that much neglect. I'd recommend you see a dentist for an examination soon. Who knows what hidden problems your could have." He smiled and stuck his hand out again. "Well it was a pleasure meeting you Harry. Perhaps we'll see each other later. I have a daughter around your age and I'm sure she'd be delighted to spend some time away from the grown up talk." Harry shook his hand again and smiled in return. Which prompted Eric to call over his shoulder as he left the restroom. "And brush your teeth."

Blushing again Harry turned to the mirror and displayed his teeth. They were indeed slightly yellow. Not enough so to be unpleasant but enough to be noticeable. Harry decided to cheat a little bit and gathered his magic. He was going to do something else he had never tried. He had pushed the magic into other things, and now even another person, but he had never tried to do something to himself. He had once regrown his hair over night after a failed hair cut but he hadn't been conscious of his abilities then.

He couldn't push the magic out or it wouldn't reach his teeth. So instead, while he watched in the mirror, he pulled the magic from his chest into his head. He then force it to seep into his teeth while willing them to be clean. It worked but it took a lot out of him. He caught his breathe while examine his work.

Eric had mentioned hidden problems, Harry recalled. So once he recovered he gathered his magic again and force it once more into his teeth. This time he willed them to be healthy. Immediately he felt a sharp pain in his jaw and it got progressively worse. He could feel his teeth shifting and changing. Harry tried to stop it but he had already pushed the magic into his teeth. He fell to his knees in pain and let out a strangled whine. His teeth settled against one another and stopped. His mouth still ached but it was fading fairly quickly.

Harry got up and checked his teeth to make sure he hadn't screwed anything up majorly. He had had a few crooked teeth as anyone might, and a few broken ones from encounters with Dudley and Vernon. Now though his teeth were straight, white, and whole. He was amazed at how well it had worked. He was also extremely tired. He hadn't realized how much magic it would actually take for him to fix his teeth but he was very glad he hadn't botched the job somehow.

Harry regarded himself in the mirror. He thought he looked even more abnormal now with his ugly broken glasses, his mess of hair, his pale dirty skin, his clothes draping off his body like curtains, and now his perfect gleaming teeth that clashed horribly with the rest of him. But all those imperfections gave him an idea. If he could fix his teeth with his magic could he possibly fix the rest of those problems? Could he counteract years of neglect and correct his stunted growth? He might try it but was afraid of the pain that might accompany such a feat. _There's no way I have enough magic for that. _Harry decided wisely.

He exited the restroom and started for the door. He saw the guard waiting outside and remember what he had been told earlier. _If you come back out without someone I'm calling my superior. _Harry thought he was safer staying inside the hotel for now. At the very least until the shift changed.

Harry looked around the lobby for something to do. Almost all the people standing around were older men in fancy suits with drinks in that their hands that were mostly just to pose with. Harry saw Eric talking to a middle aged woman with thick dark brown hair and a young girl around Harry's age with extremely frizzy hair that was closer in color to Eric's than the woman's. Harry assumed this was Eric's wife and daughter. He didn't want to intrude on their conversation but he was getting bored very quickly. He thought he might at least see if Eric could direct him to Charing Cross Rd so that he could find his way on the 3rd.

Eric spotted him and beckoned him over. Harry eagerly took the cue and joined them. "Harry, I'm glad you haven't gone to your room yet. These are my wife Emma and my daughter Hermione. Ladies this is Harry Potter." They said hello and Harry smiled at them flashing his nearly perfect teeth. "I met Harry earlier and he told me he had never seen a dentist before." Eric turned to look at Harry. "I said he was very lucky-Good lord Harry. I said brush your teeth not scrub them. You could damage your gums if you brush too hard. But my you cleaned them up nicely." Harry once again pressed his lips together and blushed. He had somehow managed, in the half hour it took to fix his teeth, to forget that Eric was a dentist. He hoped Eric hadn't notice his teeth that had been broken not an hour ago. Eric took his wife's hand and spoke again. "We're going off to talk shop. You kids get to know each other." He and Emma left to speak with other adults, leaving Harry and Hermione standing together. Harry realized he hadn't gotten to ask about Charing Cross Rd.

His musing was broken as Hermione's proud voice sounded. "Are you looking forward to the conference? I find it rather fascinating the many different uses of drills around the world. My parents are dentists. They use at least three different types of drills. Very small drills. But there are some drills that are very big around. Bigger even than that man over there." Harry had almost blocked out her voice due to his complete disinterest in her choice of subject until she mentioned the big man. He turned to look and found Vernon coming out from an elevator with his tie undone and his hair a mess. Vernon stopped by a mirror, adjusted his tie and flattened his hair before mingling with the other guests. Harry practically dove behind a sofa and out of sight.

Hermione followed him. "Are you quite all right?" Harry nodded. "All good." She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Right. And you jumped behind the sofa because?" Harry peaked over the top of the sofa but ducked quickly when he located Vernon. He turned to Hermione. "You know the big guy you mentioned?" Hermione nodded. "Well he's my uncle. And he doesn't know I'm here." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, what are you doing here if you didn't want your uncle to see you? Obviously you're not interested in drills judging by how you were tuning me out."

Hermione sat down next to him behind the sofa and waited for Harry to answer. Harry thought his face might end up permanently red from the amount of time he was blushing today. "Sorry." She waved off his apology. "Don't be. I do find it fascinating but it isn't the most riveting information. Now why are you here?"

Harry swallowed. It couldn't do any harm to tell her the truth. He just wouldn't give all the truth. "I have to get to Charing Cross Rd in a couple of days. I didn't have a way to get to London so I hopped in the back of my uncle's car without him noticing." As soon as he mentioned Charing Cross Rd Hermione had stiffened. Then she shot off without taking a breath. "Madame Jagmitten's Books and Coffee at 82 Charing Cross Road on August 3rd at 10 o'clock?" She stared at him, holding her breath in anticipation. Harry's eyes widened. "You got a letter too?" Hermione nodded furiously. "My Dad didn't even want to come to the conference. He said he can just read about it afterwards. But we were coming to London on the 3rd anyway and plus the reservation was paid for so we came. But we weren't sure if the letter was for real, except it must be because when I broke those plates they fixed themselves and when that guy on the bicycle was going to hit me he jumped over me. But we weren't sure you know? What if it was a hoax or something. What if it's a terrorist group luring kids to them so they can kidnap them? Or maybe it's a government program for experimenting on psychics." Hermione finally took a breath. Harry didn't know how anyone could speak so fast. He took a second to process everything she had said.

"I don't think it's a hoax. My mom went to Hogwarts when she was my age." Hermione grinned. "Really? Did she tell you what it was like? Did she show you some magic?" Hermione was practically bouncing in excitement. Harry frowned. "No she didn't. She's dead. I only know she went because my aunt told me." Hermione's face fell. "Oh! I am so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Harry looked away and grumbled. "No it's alright. You couldn't have known."

Neither spoke for a little while. Hermione broke the silence again. "So, if your uncle doesn't know you're here, where are you staying for the next couple of days before the orientation?" Harry stiffened. Truth be told he was planning to spend the nights in his uncle's car. He didn't think he should tell her that though. Something happened right then that at first Harry was thankful for because it drew Hermione's attention away. But the next second it terrified him. A roar of anger sounded from somewhere to their left. When Harry turned to look he was petrified. His uncle was staring straight at him and was purple in the face. Harry couldn't think of anything to say other than "Bollocks". Vernon stomped ferociously towards Harry who was trying to make himself as small as possible and wishing he could just shrink into the back of the sofa.

Hermione backed away frightened as Vernon reach down to grab the collar of Harry's tent like shirt. He tried to lift Harry up by it but Harry instead dangled bare-chested under it with his wrists caught in the sleeves. Vernon let go of the shirt and grabbed Harry's arm instead, and thrust his face so close to Harry's he thought Vernon was going to head-butt him. "What do you think you're doing here you miserable brat?" Vernon growled, his nostrils puffed like an enraged bull. Harry stuttered as he tried to think of an excuse that didn't exist.

"You'd better give me a good reason not to make you join your parents this instant you piece of shit!" Harry caught his breath enough to whisper. "Witnesses."

That stopped Vernon cold. He let his eyes travel around them. Not a large amount of people at had turned to watch the scene, but there was enough of an audience that Vernon couldn't do anything drastic at this time. He bend down into Harry's face and growled again. "You start walking home this instant. If you're not there by the time I return don't bother coming back." He dropped Harry in a heap on the floor. Harry scrambled to his feet and with one last shared glance with Hermione, she was scared stiff, fled from the hotel lobby. As he passed through the door he heard the guard call after him. "Hey kid! Stop! I'm calling my superior!" Harry couldn't care less.

Harry ran at full speed for a least a mile and a half before his adrenaline failed him and he stumbled to the ground on his hands and knees panting. "Are you all right?" Harry looked up started. He had forgotten the outside world in favor of concentrating his energy on surviving. He realize he had stumbled to the ground in front of bookstore. Outside of which was a terrace with tables and chairs, and the man that had spoken to him was nursing a cup of coffee. For a moment his head sprang up in hope that he had by chance found Madame Jagmitten's_._ The sign read _Giovanni's. _Harry sighed in dismay and then remembered the man with the coffee cup. "I'm sorry, what?" He asked as he turned to look at the man.

He looked to be in his mid twenties. He had light brow hair that descended to the nape of his neck, and he wore round glasses like Harry's but much more elegant and not broken. "I said are you all right?" The man repeated in what Harry thought was an American accent. Harry stood up shakily as his breaths started to slow again. "Yes. Yes I'm fine. Thank you." The man looked unconvinced. "Would you care to sit down?" Harry contemplated the offer. He couldn't detect any malice in the man's voice and he was rather tired. Not only had he just run over a mile at a sprint but that was just after having exhausted himself with his teeth.

Harry sat down across from the man, making sure to keep some distance. But the man stuck out his arm amicably. "Daniel Jackson." He said with a smile. Harry shook his hand. "Harry Potter." Daniel took a gulp of his coffee. "So what's the rush Harry?" That was not something Harry wanted to talk about. And though he was still breathing slightly heavily he tried to look nonchalant as he raised an eyebrow. "No rush. I was just jogging." Daniel blinked. "Jogging? Okay. I won't pry then." Harry gave him a tight smile.

They fell silent. Harry was looking away and still trying to calm his breaths. Daniel slurped his coffee and smacked his lips. "So...Nice weather we're having." Daniel said. Harry looked up at the grey London sky. He looked back at Daniel and deadpanned. A clap of thunder sounded and rain started falling. It went from a sprinkle to a heavy pour in the span of 10 seconds. "Right." Daniel said. Harry got up to stand under the canopy in the entrance of _Giovanni's_ to escape the rain and Daniel joined him. After another moment of silence Daniel took another gulp of his coffee and stretched his arm out to place the cup back on the table. He retreated quickly back under the relative dryness under the canopy. "You got anywhere to go Harry?"

Harry didn't normally talk to strangers as they generally had no reason to talk to him. He knew the stigma all parents were supposed to imprint on their children about it despite his aunt and uncle not caring enough to do so. But he had disregarded it earlier with Eric and that had turned out beneficial. _Besides_, Harry thought, _they don't get much stranger than Vernon Dursley_.

"What makes you think I need somewhere to go?" He shot back. Daniel shrugged. "You're not very well covered and you're already soaked. If you want we could could go to my hotel room and-" Daniel winced as Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, never mind. I just creeped myself out too." Harry blushed at the possible implication and so did Daniel. He may only be eleven but he knew enough about sex to know some men had strange preferences. He'd heard Vernon ranting about it and other _abominations_ before. He looked down and saw his enormous white shirt was stuck to his chest from the sudden rain. He blushed some more.

He very much doubted Daniel had meant it in that fashion judging by his embarrassment. "Well it was nice meeting you Harry. I should be off." Daniel walked out into the rain in a brisk walk. Harry hesitated. On one hand he really did need somewhere to go now that he had been discovered by Vernon. On the other hand what if Daniel really had just propositioned an eleven year old boy? Harry shuddered but he decided if that were the case he could defend himself with his magic. He stepped out after Daniel.

"Mr. Jackson, wait!" Daniel stopped. He waited for Harry to catch up to him. "I...uh...I really don't have anywhere to go." Daniel smiled. "All right. Follow me." He started walking but then stopped and turned to Harry with a blush again. "And sorry about earlier. I could have worded that better." Harry nodded affirmatively and they started walking again.

Harry was very glad the were not walking in the direction he had run from. Daniel led him to a much humbler hotel and up to a small room with one bed. By then Harry was shivering from the cold rain soaking his old hand-me-down shirt. Daniel picked up his suitcase and rummaged through it. He pulled out a towel, a sweatshirt and some sweatpants. He handed them to Harry. "Why don't you go take a hot shower. Sorry I don't have anything your size but those should work well enough." Harry smiled gratefully and headed into the bathroom. He made sure to locked the door. _Just in case_. Once he was finished he pulled the sweats as tight as they would go. He thought he looked a bit ridiculous but less tent like than he did in his cousin's old clothes. Daniel may have been rather tall in comparison to Harry but at least he was thinner than Dudley.

When Harry left the bathroom he found Daniel on the bed reading a book. He looked perfectly dry except for his hair which visibly had received a pass or two from a towel. Daniel had been protected by a coat whereas Harry had only had his cast off shirt and pants.

Daniel looked up from his book and sat up. "Comfortable?" Harry nodded. "Need anything else?" "I'm fine, thanks Mr. Jackson." Daniel smiled. "You can call me Daniel." He put his book down and looked at Harry sincerely. "My flight leaves for Egypt at noon on the 4th. You're welcome to use this room if you need to until then." Harry was wary. "Why are you being so nice?"

Daniel inhaled deeply and looked ahead as if recalling unpleasant memories. "I guess you could say I have a soft spot for kids-" He closed his eyes and sighed. "I just keep sticking my foot in my mouth today. What I mean is, I was orphaned fairly young so I've always been conscious of the needs of children. You struck me as someone who needed a helping hand so I reached out."

Harry mulled that over in his mind. He too was an orphan but he had never really felt an urge to help other children in need. He had seen his cousin bully other kids and while he had felt pity for them he never actually stood up to do anything to help. He started to feel a little guilty but what could he have done really? _Anything. I could have done something to get their attention. I could have outrun them anyway_. Harry turned his attention back to Daniel unsure what to say so he settled for "Thanks."

Daniel smiled again. "No problem. You want to read something?" He said motioning to his suitcase which Harry saw had more books in it than anything else. Harry picked up a book with the picture of a pyramid on it. "What are you going to Egypt for?" Harry knew instantly that he had set the young man off on a topic of great interest to him by the way his eyes lit up. "Well, as you may know Egyptian culture is believed to be 5000 years old." Harry shook his head to indicate he hadn't known. Daniel took no notice. "Well based on my studies of early Egyptian chronicles I believe I have uncovered evidence that it is in fact much older than that. I also believe, based on the evidence, that the Great Pyramids may not have even been built by the Pharaohs of the fourth dynasty, but actually by an earlier Egyptian civilization." Harry wasn't particularly interested in history but remembered how easily Hermione had spotted his wandering attention, so he listened to Daniel gush about how he was going to revolutionize current misconceptions about early civilizations. While he listened Harry's interest slowly became genuine as he heard the passion Daniel held for the subject.

Harry spent the rest of the day and the whole of the next day in Daniel's company, gleaning all kinds of information from him. He learned that Daniel spoke 24 languages and was still learning others. He was skeptical that any person could hold so much information in their head but Daniel backed up his claims with proof as he explained some rules other languages followed and Harry became overwhelmed quickly. Because of his interest Daniel had decided to gift Harry with a book that explained the basics of latin grammar as well as a latin dictionary. Harry didn't mention that had no bag to carry them in, he was just glad to have receive something.

On the morning of the 3rd Harry panicked when he realized at 9:30 AM he still didn't know how to get to _Madame Jagmitten's_. He asked Daniel if he could direct him but Daniel had never heard of _Madame Jagmitten's_. Harry was franticly pacing until 9:45 when he said. "How am I ever going to get to Charing Cross Road?" To which Daniel blinked and replied they were right on the corner of it.

Harry froze. He grinned so wide it looked painful. "Thanks Daniel! I've got to go now! I'll be by again later." Then he rushed out of the hotel and onto Charing Cross Rd.

* * *

**Much better place to cut the chapter than last time. Didn't really change anything other than magic being a little harder on Harry.**


	5. Book 1: Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 5**

**Orientation Begins**

* * *

As he walked up the street his head whipped from side to side searching for 82 Charing Cross Rd. He passes a shabby looking pub that was bizarrely squeezed between two buildings. It was called _The Leaky Cauldron_. He rushed past quickly as no one frequenting a place like that could possibly be friendly. Soon after passing _The Leaky Cauldron_ Harry spotted it. A small blue and white sign in the shape of a paw print, underneath which was written in a lovely cursive _Madame Jagmitten's Books and Coffee_. He walked up to the door and peaked in. There was a formation of seats in a semi circle around a podium and the seats were almost all filled. Harry entered and looked from face to face trying to determine if he was in the right place just by looking at the people. And he spotted two people that told him he was. In the front row near the middle sat Hermione and her mother. Harry started towards them but a severe looking woman stepped up to the podium and cleared her throat. Harry immediately found a seat and sat down.

"Good morning everyone. I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor of Hogwarts." She started in a voice that was at once firm yet gentle. "You are all here for the Orientation to Magic." It was a statement, not a question. Harry noticed that not a single customer in the establishment contradicted her and found it odd that no one was just here for coffee and books. "Magic is real." She continued, pulling out a foot long stick. Harry recalled the wands on the supply list. She point the stick at the podium and muttered something in what sounded like latin. The podium became a chair and she sat down facing them.

If she didn't have their attention before she certainly did now. Harry had never thought of tying to change an object into something different and he was just a astonished as everyone else in the room. "Some of you may have tried to ask around if anyone had heard of Hogwarts and found that you were unable to speak of it to anyone. Not even your families. That is because the letters you received are enchanted. They prevent you from speaking about them to anyone who has no prior knowledge of magic. The same enchantments are on this very shop, as well as The Leaky Cauldron down the street, and a great number of other locations around the United Kingdom and the world." Some in the crowd turned to each other to mutter about how hard hard they had tried and yet could not broach the subject of Hogwarts with their friends and neighbors.

"During this orientation I will be explaining various things about Hogwarts and the wizarding world in general. If you decide you do not wish for your child to attend Hogwarts, your memories of our correspondence and this meeting will be erased. This is to safeguard the International Statute of Secrecy, which states that no non-magical person unrelated to a trained witch or wizard may be aware of the existence of the wizarding world. You may have heard about witch burnings or declarations of magic as heresy. Those were some of the reasons this secrecy is kept very strictly."

Harry found himself agreeing deeply with the need for secrecy. Had his uncle not known about magic it would have made his childhood much easier to deal with. But then, with Harry's previous instances of uncontrolled magic it would have been hard to keep Vernon from noticing.

"Those who received a letter but did not reply before July 31st have already had their memories erased. The children have had their magic bound to prevent further incidents and with age it will normalize and require a focus in order to be used." With that she raised her wand. "This is a wand, one of many types of foci, one of the few legal one in the United Kingdom. When wizards and witches are young their magic is erratic but stabilizes with age. As you grow older you will notice fewer incidences of accidental magic. This is why magical education begins at eleven years old. That is the age where typically magic can start to be controlled with a focus."

McGonagall started explaining the details of the magical world. From the system of government which worked like Parliament only it lacked a House of Commons, to the different magical creatures hidden from the non-magical society. Though she used the word Muggle instead of non-magical which Harry could see ruffled a few feathers with the parents as it didn't sound particularly much like a compliment. McGonagall then outlined the day's plan. They were to follow her to Gringott's Bank, which was run by goblins, to convert money into the wizarding currency, then they would collect their supplies. Afterwards they would get their first taste of Floo transportation and head to the Ministry of Magic for registration. She then invited questions. Harry's hand shot up along with almost very other person's hands.

Harry's arm started to ache as he waited for his chance to ask his questions. People asked question like "Do witches really fly on brooms?" and "Are unicorns real?" which irritated Harry as he didn't particularly care for those questions. Some asked more pertinent ones like "What is the curriculum of Hogwarts?" and Harry was immediately looking forward to History of Magic and Ancient Runes, having been turned on to those subjects' non magical counterparts by Daniel Jackson 2 days earlier.

Finally someone asked a question Harry wanted have answered. "How much is the tuition?" McGonagall smiled reassuringly. "The tuition is very minimal. Hogwarts is mostly funded by magical taxes, which you do not have to pay as you do not receive magical services. The portion you will be paying is twenty Galleons which I believe equates to approximately £100."

Harry's heart raced and tried to raise his arm higher. There was no way he could afford even that amount, which he knew to be extremely modest for a year in a private boarding school.

McGonagall's eyes fell on Harry. "Yes Mr. Potter?" Harry was taken aback. How did she know his name? He lowered his hand as people turned to look at him. Hermione saw him and gasped, then waved at him excitedly. He smiled stiffly at her, being nervous from all the attention. He cleared his throat. "Is there any possibility of financial help with tuition and supplies?" People started to eye the conditions of his clothes. He had swapped Daniel's sweats for his own clothes as soon as they were dry as he didn't want to inconvenience him. The rain had soak his clothes but not cleaned them and they were quite dirty.

McGonagall gave him a sad smile. "There is limited help provided from a vault kept by the Headmaster to aid up to ten students in need every year. This year there are only three students in higher years needing help so if any of you need such help let me know once we reach the bank."

Another hour of questions followed before finally McGonagall stood up and led the crowd out of Madame Jagmitten's.

Harry followed the crowd out of Madame Jagmitten's and on the way to Gringotts Bank. His heart was soaring. He was going to attend Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and it would be covered by the Headmaster. He couldn't wait to see a goblin for the first time. Harry was so caught up in his joy that Eric's hand landing on his shoulder made him jump.

"Alright there Harry?" Eric asked. Harry smiled. "Yes. I'm fine. How was the conference?" Eric ignored his question and gaze him a concerned look. "Hermione told us what happened with your uncle. We've been rather worried."

Though Harry was glad Eric felt concern for him, he did not wish to speak of his family life. He had been in such a good mood and he wouldn't let Vernon bring him down just yet. "It's nothing." He said airily. Eric was quite obviously unconvinced and Hermione mirrored his look.

Harry decided to change the subject and addressed Hermione. "So, what subjects are you looking forward to?" Hermione's skeptical frown burst into a wide smile and her eyes widened in excitement. "Oh all of them. It all seems so surreal. Secrecy enchantments...memory charms...goblins. Though I'm particularly intrigued by Transfiguration. Did you see her turn that podium into a chair?" Harry jumped it as he thought she might continue speaking without pausing for breath and that could be dangerous. For both her health and his brain. "Yeah I don't think anyone missed that one. What do you figure goblins will be like?"

Hermione turned thoughtful. "Well I don't know. There have been plenty stories involving goblins but I suppose they all describe them differently don't they?"

"Here we are." Came McGonagall's voice from the front of the group. Harry looked ahead to see where she was standing. "You're joking." He muttered. Above her head was a sign reading _The Leaky Cauldron_. It didn't look any more inviting than the first time Harry had passed it. "Inside if you please." McGonagall ushered them through.

The inside was more than surprisingly large considering on the outside it looked barely wider than the doorway. On the inside it was actually the size of an average diner. The din was horrendous. Harry couldn't imagine anyone actually hearing their own conversations over the racket. Somehow McGonagall made herself heard over it though and lead them all through a doorway in the back. It lead into a small courtyard behind the pub into they all fit but there was nowhere to go from there.

As they all squeezed into the courtyard, the thought of ambush leapt into Harry's mind. He swept it away furiously. If there were any danger there was little he'd be able to do about it anyway so no point in dwelling on it. McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Now pay close attention." She said as everyone perked up attentively. "In order to exchange currency and obtain your supplies we will be heading in Diagon Alley. And in order to enter Diagon Alley you must tap a brick in this wall three times. An easy to fid the brick n question is to count the brick above this trash can." She wrinkled her nose and pointed to a trash can, from which she was standing as far as possible while still being considered next to it. "Three bricks up and two across." She recited and tapped the last brick three times.

On the third hit the brick vanished. The bricks around the hole began grinding against each other as they slid out of the way, making the hole bigger. In seconds the hole became a grand archway which opened on a winding road paved with cobble stones.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley." All the jaws in the group were hanging. "Follow me please." McGonagall marched through the archway. Harry briefly wondered where the trash can had gone before snapping back to reality and following the group. As they came around the bend they gawked some more. Buildings of all shapes and sizes lined Diagon Alley. They ranged from squat one story buildings which barely looked tall enough to welcome children, to cylindrical towers with pointed roofs. As they walked on Harry noted all of them were selling something or another that he had never head of. _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour_ finally brought some familiarity back but the flavors available shot that down too. _Frog's Legs and Mustard ice cream? _Harry saw Emma restrain Hermione out of the corner of his eye as they passed _Flourish & Blotts Bookseller_. Finally after a long and mesmerizing walk they reach a set of white steps where McGonagall stopped.

At the top of the steps was a starch white building that reminded Harry of a temple. It dwarfed many of the buildings around it and it has massive bronze doors. In the doorway, dressed in scarlet and gold uniforms were some of the meanest looking creatures Harry had ever seen. _Those must be goblins_. Harry thought.

"This is Gringotts. Inside you will proceed to speak with a teller. They will be able to withdraw money from your muggle accounts and exchange it for wizarding currency. Remember the value system is 29 Knuts to the Sickle and 17 Sickles to the Galleon. Currently one Galleon exchanges for approximately £5. You will need a minimum of 40 Galleons to cover the essential supplies and we recommend spending no more than 100 Galleons for a first year as broomsticks are not allowed." She smiled reassuringly at them. "Don't be frightened by the goblins. They may not be the nicest creatures but they will do you no harm unless you threaten them or their money. I will be here when you are done to hand you a map which will show you where to purchase your supplies." She gestured her hand towards Gringotts and the group started, apprehensively, up the steps. Harry made to follow but felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw McGonagall smiling down at him. He then remembered he had no money to convert. McGonagall reached into her pocket and pulled out a key.

"This key belongs to you. It is the key your trust vault in Gringotts." She said holding it up for him to see.

"You mean the student aid vault?" He asked puzzled. She shook her head. "No Mr. Potter. This vault belongs only to you. It was opened by your parents when you were born to pay for you schooling." Harry's heart skipped a beat. He knew so little about his parents. The little he did know, apart from the rubbish about the car accident, he had learned in the last week or so.

"Did you know my parents?" He asked tentatively. Hopefully. McGonagall continued to smile her kind smile and nodded. "I did. I taught them transfiguration when they were in Hogwarts. Your father had a particular talent for it." Harry gulped down this information with pride for his father's talent and hope to hear more from someone who had know him.

"What was his name?" He whispered. Lily, he now knew, was his mother's name. He had yet to hear his father called anything other than "your father" or "the lout" as his uncle called him. It was McGonagall's turn to wear a confused expression.

"You don't know his name?" Harry shook his head. Her expression turned foul. Harry's heartbeat sped up. Was she angry at him for not know his father's name? "And I suppose you don't know your own story either." She stated more than asked. "Story?" Harry squeaked.

McGonagall sighed. She gave Harry a reassuring look. "Your father was James Potter. He, along with your mother Lily Evans, was part of a group that fought against an evil wizard named-" She seemed to hesitate with the name, as if fighting to pull it off her lips. "Voldemort." She continued. "The majority of the wizarding world will refer to him as You-Know-Who for those who feared him, or the Dark Lord for those who supported him. On October 31st of 1981, he attacked your home which was supposed to have been under a powerful hiding charm. He killed your parents and tried to kill you as well. It is believed that somehow his spell rebounded and destroyed him instead, leaving you only with a scar on your forehead. To the wizarding world you are known as The-Boy-Who-Lived. The child that brought an end to an era of murder and terror."

Harry's face turned as white as the walls of Gringotts. Suddenly his scar, which had been his one source of pride, his only mark of originality, had become a icon. A terrible trophy for a victory gained at the cost of his parents. And he was celebrated for something that he could not even remember. It struck him that he had often woken up in cold sweat after hearing an eery high pitched laugh, followed a flash of sickly green light, which lead to a horrendous scream. He wondered if he did in fact recall the last moments of an evil wizard.

Harry was overwhelmed by a torrent of emotion. Guilt for having survived when his parents had not. Longing for the parents that were stolen from him. Hate for the one who took them. He tried to summon up a feeling of satisfaction for remembering the evil wizard's last painful scream but in the end he felt completely empty. Harry's legs gave out under him and he fell to his hands and knees. His eyes stung with tears that wouldn't fall.

He took a deep breath to compose himself. He could almost feel McGonagall's gaze on him. He stood up and avoided meeting her eyes until she offered the key to him again. He looked up and and saw her eyes shown with empathy not pity or amusement as he had expected.

He accepted the key. "I-I almost remember it. But I didn't do anything." He struggled to get the words out of his throat, which felt sore as if he had been screaming.

McGonagall smiled softly at him. "No one knows what really happened. Most people probably don't care. So many lives we lost during those year while he reigned free. You'll simply have to get used to the fact that you are, in fact, a hero to a large portion of the wizarding world. It is a large shadow to step out from but try just to be yourself, in the best way you can." She handed him a map of Diagon Alley. "Take this. I will be in the Leaky Cauldron when you are done with your purchases. You have until 2 o'clock." She gestured towards the building behind him, which Harry took as the end of the conversation.

He started up the steps but with each one his legs felt heavier. He was a hero. The problem was he didn't feel like one. He wasn't brave. He wasn't strong. Sure he had started to become healthier but he in no way fit the image of the mighty slayer of the Dark Lord.

_Voldemort_. The name resonated angrily in his head. The anger surged through his body and he stomped the rest of the way up the steps. He tried telling himself he'd already had his revenge but it was bitter. It wasn't enough. His rage evaporated almost immediately when he heard a feminine voice call his name.

"Harry!" It was Hermione running out of the bank's enormous bronze doors. He smiled. "Already done?" He asked. Eric followed Hermione out of the bank at a slower pace with Emma bringing up the rear. Eric chuckled and pointed at Hermione. "She rushed us to the front of the line. These goblins might not be very pleasant but they sure are quick."

Hermione blushed and grabbed Harry's arm, tugging him towards the rest of Diagon Alley. "Come on! I want to see everything!" Harry resisted reluctantly. He wanted to go with her but he wanted to see his vault more. "I can't. I don't have money yet." Hermione let go. "Oh. Did McGonagall give you access to the-student aid account?" She said sympathetically. Harry was torn between pride and sadness. "Actually. It turns out my parents left me some money for school before they died." Hermione looked down at her feet in shame at having reminded Harry of a subject she had bumbled into the last time they had met.

Eric saw the mood falling so he intervened. "Well let's start our shopping. Maybe we can meet up somewhere later." Harry smiled at him and they waved at each other as the Grangers descended the steps while he entered the cavernous bank.

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**And cut! That's the end of chapter 5. I had previously posted some of Gringotts in here but that was because I hit a block on the rest of the orientation.**


	6. Book 1: Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 6**

**A Little Shopping**

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The inside of the bank, as seemed to be the pattern with the wizarding world, was even bigger than the outside. He let his gaze travel around the mediterranean architecture. There were elegant columns and majestic archways, all dazzling white with gold trims. The floor was, by contrast, of deep scarlet marble that was extremely reflective.

Harry spotted a sign hanging from gold chains that read "Withdrawals" and headed for it. He stepped up to the counter but there didn't seem to be anyone behind it. A hum sounded somewhere behind the counter. Then suddenly a circle on the floor opened up and with a whir a set of 5 large rings ascended from the gap. There was a flash of light from within the rings and, as quickly as they had ascended, they fell back into the gap which closed behind them. Where before there had been nothing, there was now a goblin with a cart full of gold. He, at least Harry assumed it was a he, saw Harry at the counter and seemed surprised. He hurriedly led the cart towards a wall and pushed it right through as if there was nothing there. He came back out the same way, now rid of the cart, walked up to the counter and faced Harry. His eyes however were pointed somewhere above Harry's head.

"I'm sorry sir. There tend to be fewer withdraws on Orientation Day so I felt it appropriate to step away for a time. How may I help you?" Surprised by the politeness, Harry took a moment to react. He was surprised again when a tired voice came from behind him.

"I believe the lad was here first actually." Harry craned his neck and saw behind him was a man who looked as tired as he sounded. His clothes were dirty and frayed. He looked very much out of place in the high-brow bank.

The man saw Harry looking and smiled. "Go on" He said patiently. Harry turned back to the goblin who was now scowling at him as if he were dirt. Harry was very confused by the change in attitude. "Well what do you want?" The goblin snapped.

"Sorry. I wanted to make a withdrawal." Harry held up his key. The goblin reached out an snatched it from his grip. He inspected it it closely. His attitude changed once again. His lips parted showing pointed teeth in a greedy grin. "Will that be a direct withdrawal or assisted withdrawal." Harry hesitated, not know what those meant. "Umm..." The man behind him cleared his throat and Harry looked back at him. "Direct withdrawal is made at the vault in person. Assisted withdrawal is made by the teller. Assisted is quicker but there is a 12 Sickle fee." Harry smiled gratefully. "Thanks." The man nodded in response. Harry turned to the teller once more. "Direct please."

The goblin sent an annoyed look at the man behind Harry before ringing a bell. A younger looking goblin ran up to the teller. The teller handed him Harry's key. "Hornbrow will take you to your vault."

Harry followed Hornbrow through an archway that led to a track, on which sat what looked like a cross between a horse buggy and a mining cart. Hornbrow sat in the front and motioned for Harry to sit in the back. As soon as Harry's bottom touched the seat the cart took off at speeds Harry didn't know were possible to survive. The cart moved up, down, left and right. Several times Harry felt like he would fly out of the cart but he stayed stuck to his seat. He thought they might even have gone upside down a few times but he wasn't sure. The cart came to an abrupt halt next to a large door that had large gold numbers on it. _687_.

The goblin hopped off the cart as gracefully as his stubby limbs allowed while Harry stumbled out behind him. Hornbrow placed Harry's key into a barely visit keyhole and turned it. The large door inched inward on its own painfully slowly, and Harry could not wait to see what was inside. When the contents of the vault were revealed Harry gasped. There were mounds of bronze coins, piles of silver ones and heaps of gold ones. Harry had never seen so much money, regardless of its currency, in his entire life. He swung around to face Hornbrow.

"Is all of this mine?" He breathed. Hornbrow gave an annoyed frown and nodded. He obviously wasn't much of a talker. He said nothing so Harry turned back to the fortune in front of him. And he only needed 40 of the gold coins, Galleons, to purchase his school supplies. Harry wandered around the stacks for a minute before a thought struck him. _There's only money in here_. Did his parents not leave him anything but money? And what had happened to their belongings when they died?

Harry turned to Hornbrow once more. "Do you know what happened to my parents' belonging? Did they leave me anything besides money?" Hornbrow sneered. "The first matter is wizarding business. I do not know. As for the second, I am not privy to such information. If a will was filed with Gringotts then you should check with your magical guardian in order to set up an appointment with your account manager." _So he does talk then. _Harry thought. "Does a magical guardian have to be a magical person?" He asked. Hornbrow's expression shift and Harry thought he might be lifting an eyebrow. "Of course. How would a non magical person properly navigate the legal channels set up by your ministry? Even your so called Squibs have extreme difficulty keeping abreast of magical happenings." Harry blinked. _Squibs? What are those? And Aunt Petunia can't be my magical guardian then. _"So- Um who might my magical guardian be? And um- What are Squibs?" Hornbrow glared hard. "Ask your Ministry! I am a vault guardian not a school teacher."

Harry looked away quickly and shuffled into the stacks of coins. He took a deep breath and concentrated on his task at hand. Harry managed to gather up a good hundred Galleons, possibly more, into his cousin's abyss like pockets. He turned back to the entrance and headed towards Hornbrow. At the entrance Harry noticed something on the floor in front of his vault. It was a circle identical to the one he had seen the teller use in the lobby.

Hornbrow waved Harry out of the vault, motioned toward the cart and barked. "Back in the cart if you're done." Hornbrow waved the door towards him and it obeyed, inching closed slowly until it shut with a creak. He turned the key, locking it, and handed the key back to Harry. The goblin now revealed to be a talker, though a rather snappy one, Harry chose to risk asking another question. A rather daring one he thought as he exited the vault. "Hornbrow, I don't mean to be a bother but what is that?" Harry pointed to the circle on the floor.

"You speak of course of our ring transporter." Hornbrow spoke plainly but with a hint of curiosity. Then his eyes narrowed as he continued. "It has been many years since the wizards have asked about our technology. We do not take well to spies or thieves." The narrower the goblin's eyes got the wider Harry's became. He waved his hands in from of him in denial. "I'm not a spy! Honest, I was just curious."

Hornbrow gave a humph and hopped into the cart. "Any other questions? Or shall we return to the surface?" Harry got into the cart and asked one last question before sitting. "So the rings are technology then? Not magic?" Hornbrow gave a snort. "Magic is in the eye of the beholder anyhow. What is magic but a force you cannot explain?" With that the cart darted forward gluing Harry to his seat.

Finally they reached the surface and Harry stumbled out into the artificial light of the lobby. He looked behind him but Hornbrow was nowhere to be seen. He did, however see a clock that read 12:30. He only had an hour and half to buy all of his supplies. Harry rushed out into Diagon Alley, pulling out his list and the map of the alley. The first item on his list was his school uniform. Robes, pointy hat, etc...

Harry didnt know how he was supposed to know where to get these things. He turned his attention to the map and was surprised. The map wasn't still. In fact not even the alley depicted wasn't still. One of the cross streets, Eeturn Alley, was continuous swaying like a cat's tail. Another, Euju Alley, was actually sliding along Diagon Alley meaning that its entry point shifted buildings apart to open up. The length of the alley often intersected with other cross streets as it slide further. There was also a Knockturn Alley which, though labeled, seemed to be clouded in mist.

_But I still don't know where to go. _Harry thought. As if sensing his thoughts the bottom of the map glowed red attracting his attention there. He saw that his list of school supplies was written there. Subconsciously putting his finger to the word Uniform made several points glow on the map. The dots were labeled _Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, Falbala's Fancy Frills, O'Henry, Twilfitt and Tatting's _and _Hoppy Wizard Wear. _There was a star next to _Madam Malkin's _which Harry assumed meant was the recommended place to shop. Harry decided first to locate all of his shopping locations in order to maximize his time efficiency.

He eventually chose to stop at_ Ollivander's _first for his wand, as it was located at the very end of Diagon Alley and appeared to be the only option for purchasing a wand. Next he would move up to _Madam Malkin's _for his school uniform. Across from _Madam Malkin's _was _Hoppy Wizard Wear _which Harry thought he might check for decent clothing that fit him somewhat better than his cousin's old things. After his wardrobe he would take care of his school books at _Flourish & Blott's_, general school supplies including ink, quills, and his telescope at the _Whatnot _stationary store, his vials and scales at _Slug & Jigger's Apothecary_, and finally his cauldron at the shop titled simply _Cauldrons_.

Harry wasted no time in setting off towards _Ollivander's_ at a brisk pace. Stepping up to the shop Harry saw the sign which read _Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. _Harry was skeptical about that but he'd been surprised by so many things today he didn't dare doubt the truth of the statement. Entering the shop he found a line of seats, several of which were already taken, and a red haired girl about Harry's age getting a stick taken from her hands by an old man. The man promptly placed another stick, which Harry now recognized as a wand, into the girl's hand. Harry took a seat as she swished the wand and a purple stream of sparkles left the tip. The girl squealed in joy and the people next to Harry clapped.

The old man, possibly named Ollivander, clapped his hand together as well. "Yes. Remarkable." He said with a smile. "Willow, 9 inches, and a scale from a mer-queen, rather bendy. Very special wand indeed Miss Bones." He turned to the adult sitting in the first seat. "Six Galleons and twelve Sickles if you please Madame." The likewise red haired middle aged woman placed the coins on the counter and ledMissBonesout of the shop with a polite "Thank you Mister Ollivander."

The next customer was a tall wiry young man who held in his hands three pieces of a broken wand. Before he could open his mouth Ollivander spoke. "Ah yes, Mister Oblong. Balsa, 10 and 1/4 inches, slime of a Horned Toad. Very fragile I'm afraid, though very conductive. Would you like another fitting or shall I find something similar?" Mr. Oblong smiled. "Similar if you would. I'm rather fond of the balsa wands." Ollivander nodded and disappeared into the rear of the shop to search through the stacks of boxes. He returned with four boxes and had Mr. Oblong try them all, until he settled on "Blasa, 8 inches, Twirlhog gelatin" at "Five Galleons and a Knut." Mr. Oblong paid and left and it was now Harry's turn. Ollivander's eyes found his and Harry thought he felt a breeze across his forehead.

Ollivander smiled widely. "Ah Mister Potter. I've been expecting you." Harry hesitated. He was starting to find he didn't like being famous one bit. "You have sir?" Ollivander scoffed. "Why of course. Wands like your parents had? No way you'd have been a Squib."

_Everyone seems to have known my parents. And that's the second time I hear that word. _"What's a squib sir?" He asked, not feeling quite emotionally prepared to hear more about his parents today. Ollivander, seeming delighted to impart some knowledge, widened his eyes and grinned. "A squib, Mister Potter, is a wizard or witch without enough broad range magic to wield a wand. Though you'll find many in this society who believe squibs lack magic completely, they are in fact simply limited to certain forms of magic. Forms that require little magical strength or ability. Now, shall we fit you for a wand?"

He didn't wait for a response. He simply led Harry to where Miss Bones had been standing and started measuring parts of Harry. Eventually Harry noticed the tape measure was measuring on its own and Ollivander had in fact left to collect some boxes.

When he returned he waved away the tape measure. "Hold out you dominant hand." Harry held out his right hand and found a stick placed in it. "Purpleheart, 9 and 1/8 inches, Ridgeback tongue strand. Give it a wave." Harry had barely flicked it when it was snatched away and replaced. "Sir, what purpose does it serve t have different woods and measurements? And what is the third thing you mentioned?" Ollivander smiled but continued swapping wands from Harry's hand.

"The wood is a conductor. Different woods are better at carrying certain types of magic. Balsa for example is extremely fragile but provides little to no resistance towards any type of magic." Harry interrupted as a thought formed in his mind. "Cant wands be made of anything other than wood?" Ollivander frowned slightly. "Everything conducts magic in its own way. Most metals are rather rigid when it comes to conducting magic. They can make very conductive single purpose wands. For example a steel wand would be excellent for immediate effect spells, but would be unable to hold a spell for an extended period. A gold wand on the other hand could be perfect for extended charms but is entirely incapable of performing transfigurations." He placed a greenish wand in Harry's hand and it shot out of his hand on its own accord. Ollivander didn't bother collecting it before putting another wand in Harry's hand. He continued with his explanation. "I've tried many mediums for wands. I even dabbled with that muggle pastack thing for a while. Very unstable. Does not like to bond with the core. Wood has been the tried and true medium for wands since wands were invented."

"What about the measurement?" Harry asked as Ollivander placed a "Oak, 12 inches, Ashwinder fang" wand in his hand. Ollivander continued his lecture. "The measurement on its own it nothing. Its is simply the best amount of material needed to bond well with the core. It's dependent on both the material and the core. For example." He pulled the wand from Harry's hand and replaced it. "This wand is Oak as well, but is only 10 and 1/2 inches long rather than the 12 of the previous. This is because that is the best length for it to be compatible with its Unicorn tail hair core. The core itself is an object or substance with magical properties. They allow your magic to connect to connect with the conductor. The wood or the core on their own with not work as a focus. They must be bonded together to form a proper wand."

After finishing his explanation Ollivander sighed. Harry saw that every box he had brought out was now empty and the wands lay in a neat pile on the counter. Including the one that shot out of his hand. Ollivanders eyes suddenly shown with realization. "I wonder." He mutter before heading off to the back of the shop again.

He returned with only one box that was covered in dust. "In order for a wand to work for a wizard, the core has to not only bond with the wood but also with the wizard. Truth be told I would not charge for the wands I sell if not to keep my shop open. Because as soon as a wand chooses a wizard that wand can no longer be sold to anyone else. It will not bond to any wizard but its first choice. True any wizard or witch may be able to work some magic through another wizard's wand but never to its full potential."

He opened the box and handed the wand inside to Harry. "Holly, 11 inches, Phoenix tail feather." Harry grasped the wand and immediately felt a warm sense of belonging. He swished it and a spray of gold sparks emitted from it. "Yes. Curious." Ollivander said slowly. "Very curious indeed, but not at all surprising." Harry looked up from the wand. "Why is that?" Ollivander was no longer smiling.

Ollivander bent down to be at eye level with Harry. "I never forget a wand I sold. I can recite the specifications and owners of every wand that has left my shop. I say it is curious that this wand should choose you, because the phoenix that gave the tail feather for it gave only one other. That feather went into a wand crafted at the same time as yours. Made of yew, 13 and 1/2 inches long. A very powerful wand, just like yours. And I regret to say that your wand's brother gave you that scar." Harry felt Ollivander's cold finger trace his lighting bolt scar and shuddered.

"What-" Harry swallowed to regain his composure. "What does that mean? My wand's brother." Ollivander leaned back. "Wands whose cores shared a bond before crafting are called brother wands. In a fight they will compete equally with rivalry. But also with love. Only a wielder of immense will can force a wand to overcome it's brother. I could not say for certain, but it is possible that you were meant for this wand even before that night. And that may have played a part in the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry's insides twisted. His anger started to flare again at the already defeated enemy. "Can you tell me more about Voldemort?" He asked tightly. Ollivander sucked in a breath at the name. "First you must realize that you must never speak his name. Though he is defeated I do not believe he is gone." That was like a slap in the face to Harry. His parents' mudered. Murderer of hundreds. Still at large biding his time. _I have never hated anyone so deeply. _His thoughts were interrupted as Ollivander continued. "You especially mustn't speak his name. It was made taboo during the war. He was able to locate any who spoke his name aloud and shatter any protection they may have put up to guard themselves."

Harry froze at that. Though his mind raged, and he would like nothing more than to rid the world of Voldemort, he knew well the Boy-Who-Lived was nothing but a fairy tale for wizard children. Voldemort finding him was not a pleasant thought.

"Another thing you should know is he wasn't always He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was once an orphan like you. A very troubled boy named Tom Riddle. A boy in whose eyes I saw a wonder and potential greater than the average. I had hope when such a powerful and harmonious wand chose him." Ollivander's gaze gained an intensity that both invigorated and frightened Harry. "Though I was thoroughly disappointed by that lad's chosen path I believe I see the same potential in you Mister Potter. I can only hope the wand I have provided you will help you to the greatness I know you can achieve."

Harry's heart pounded and Ollivander held his gaze. Ollivander then smilled again. "Now. Seven Galleons if you please." Harry released his breath and fished out the coins. "Thank you Mister Potter. And may I suggest you buy a trunk to place all you shopping in. They tend to forget to put that one the list though it is rather necessary." Harry smiled in return. "Thank you Mister Ollivander." He called as he left the shop.

Harry refused to let his mind wander to Voldemort. _Tom Riddle. _He told himself. He may be at large but nothing was certain. And even if he was there was nothing that Harry could do about it at this time. That made him feel weak temporarily, but as his fist clenched his new wand he felt its comforting warmth.

Conveniently, the _Travis and Stolnik's Travel and Storage _trunk shop was almost directly in front of _Ollivander's_. Harry browsed through their selection quickly, not wanting to spend too much and not wanting to waste his already limited time. The trunks ranged from plain to fancy in appearance, but more interesting than that were the features. Self shrinking, floating, feather light, multiple compartments, password locks and so on. Harry at this point wasn't sure he'd need any of those, though several did sound appealing.

He inquired about the self shrinking and found he could fill the trunk entirely, tap his wand on it and it would shrink without damaging anything inside. No spell was required as the trunk already knew what to do, and he only had to tap it again with his wand to make it grow. The salewoman said something about runes doing it which sparked Harry's interest but she said no more on the matter. He took a modestly stylish trunk, with his name engraved into it for a fee, that came with the self shrinking and feather light features. He left the store 33 Galleons, 4 Sickles, and 18 Knuts lighter witch he found had not made all that signifiant a dent in the piles of coins in his pockets. He must have take a lot more from the vault than he'd thought.

Now with a shrunken trunk full of gold in his pocket instead of loose coins, Harry went to _Madam Malkin's _for his uniform. There an elder well dressed lady was guiding a measuring tape with her wand all over a girl several years older than Harry. Harry blushed and looked away when the tape measure circled the girl's bust. The elegant old woman asked "Hogwarts?" "Yes." Harry squeaked out. She pointed him t stand on the stool next to the girl. Harry got up on the stool. The witch finished her measuring and left. Harry started when the girl next to him spoke up. "First year?" She asked cheerfully.

Harry looked up at her in confusion. _Muggleborn?_ Then he did a double take. He could have sworn upon entering that the girl had long blonde hair, but she now had not only black hair but in the same wild cut as Harry and her eyes were also the same green. Harry thought her skin might be the same shade as his too when she had been distinctly pinkish before. The girl laughed at his gaping mouth and her features changed again to a skin paler than even Harry's, long black hair, and

bright blue eyes.

"How did you do that?" Harry gasped. She laughed again. "I'm a metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will." Harry grinned. "Do they teach that at Hogwarts?" She laughed once more. _Cheerful she is. _Harry thought. "No, sorry. It's a talent you have to be born with. It's pretty rare considering they used to be considered dark wizards and witches. You know how the ministry is with anything considered dark." Harry shook his head.

The girl looked him over. "I guess you're a muggle born then. How are you liking the wizarding world so far?" Harry's face scrunched a little. "It's scary but fascinating." He decided. That prompted a chuckle from the girl. "Sounds like you're going to Ravenclaw. You like to read?"

Harry didn't really want to talk about himself so he tried shifting the focus back to her. "I read, yes. What year are you in?" She grinned wide. "Seventh. Last year for me. Then its hopefully off to Auror Academy." Harry thought he might have heard the word Auror mentioned. _Maybe a passerby said it. _"What's Auror Academy?" He inquired. "Why it's where you learn to be an Auror of course. They're like Police Officers for the wizarding world."

Before the conversation could continue the old witch came back carrying a multitude of clothing articles, including what Harry recognized as the hogwarts uniform but also other items as well such as a gray pleated skirt. "Hufflepuff correct?" The witch asked but she didn't wait for a reply before tapping the robes and the tie with her wand. The collar and the inner lining of the robes became a canary yellow and so did the gray part of the tie. She handed everything to the girl who groaned. "Madam Malkin, I keep telling you I want the pants." Malkin harrumphed, took back the pleated skirt and exchanged it for slacks. "You're going to have to be a lady some day Miss Tonks. It's your last year. Can't blame an old witch for trying." She retorted with a barely hidden smile.

Miss Tonks put her new uniform in a bag that did not appear large enough to contain it. Madam Malkin asked. "Will you be needing new gloves dear?" Miss Tonks nodded. "Yeah. NEWT potions this year. Going to need all the protection possible." Malkin harrumphed again. "Don't need to tell me. I hear enough complaints about Severus Snape every year. He's probably the reason why you all need three perfectly good robes per year when one should last you two years at least. With protection charms on them no less. Although, you children do grow fast." She wandered towards a shelf that held the gloves. "Dragon hide?" "Yes please." Miss Tonks answered.

Handing the gloves to Miss Tonks Madam Malkin patted her hand and smiled "Twelve Galleons and you're free to go." The money exchanged hands and both turned to Harry. Madam Malkin started measuring him while Miss Tonks continued to chat with Harry. "So what's your name?" "Uh-Harry. Yourself?" Harry didn't want the attention he knew would come with his full name. He'd already covered his scar as best he could with his hair. Miss Tonks narrowed her eyes. "Tonks." Harry was puzzled. "Isn't that your last name?" Tonks grinned. "Yes and its all you'll ever know." Harry felt like she was threatening him even tho there really wasn't anything malicious in what she said. He decided a different subject was best.

"So why the tie and skirt-I mean trousers? The letter only said robes, cloak, hat and gloves" Harry verbally stumbled. Madam Malkin chose to answer before Tonks could. "They only require those. You can theoretically wear anything you like under the robes but I sell my own design of uniform to show more house pride. It consists of a white button up shirt, a gray jumper, a gray skirt-" She sent an amused look at Tonks, "or gray trousers, a house tie, a house scarf, house socks, black leather shoes and leather boots for winter."

Madam Malkin looked up from her measuring and smiled at Harry. "As I said, it isn't required but I'm a fashion designer. Even students deserve to look good. Plus I only charge an extra two Galleons for the whole deal." Tonks sent him a thumbs up over Malkin's shoulder so Harry smiled. "Alright. Let's go with that."

Madame Malkin finished measuring and shuffled off to collect Harry's uniform. Tonk spoke up again. "So you got a last name Harry?" Harry shot back. "You have a first name Tonks?" She laughed some more. "No just Tonks." Harry grinned at her. "Then I'm just Harry." Tonks stuck out her hand and shook Harry's. "Well then, just Harry, I must be off. If you need anything at Hogwarts feel free to ask me." She then turned to the back of the store and called out. "See you Madam Malkin!" The old witch's muffled call answered. "Goodbye dear. Come back any time." With a wave Tonks left.

Harry didn't have to wait long for Madam Malkin to return. When she did she had every item floating to display for him. "The robes are charmed to match whatever house you are sorted into when you get to Hogwarts. I've designed my clothes to piggyback on those charms and match as well." She flicked her wand and the clothes all neatly folded. The shoes and boots floating in pairs as well. She floated some gloves for him to see. She point at thick black scaly looking gloves. "These are dragon hide gloves. Durable, impermeable, and very protective. They are standard and very good. I recommend them. There are some other options however. These-" She indicated delicate looking white ones, "are Fargo Slug silk. Not as soft as Acromantula slik and not as long lasting either. But it is completely impermeable to liquids and and punctures. Heat will damage them so they are useful for Hebology but less so for Potions. These-" She pointed to so dark red leathery gloves, "are Amblegurt skin. You wont feel heat or cold in them and they absorb liquid. However if they absorb too much it will seep through the inside. Always dry them after use."

Harry thought he'd be better off taking the standard for now and looking into the others later, so he requested the dragon hide gloves. "Very well. That will be twelve Galleons. Do you need a bag?" Harry shook his head and resized his trunk. "Ah very good choice Mister Potter." Harry didn't know if she had seen his scar or just read his name on the trunk. He chose to ignore it though and told himself to get used to people knowing him by a false reputation. He handed her the twelve Galleons and places his new uniform into his trunk.

A thought struck him. "Madam Malkin, is one set enough? Won't they get dirty?" Madam Malkin smiled. "No young man. They are self cleaning. They will even repair themselves from miner damage. Now if for some reason you go rolling in the muck you may need to vanish it before the self cleaning charms can work but they will never retain smell or stains."

Harry was glad for that. He literally had nothing else presentable. Though he did still plan to check _Hoppy _for every day clothing. "Thank you very much Madam Malkin." She smiled a satisfied smile. "Thank You Mister Potter, and I'll hope to see you again next year." Harry left after shrinking his trunk again and placing in back into his pocket.

Across the alley he entered _Hoppy Wizard Wear_. Some of wizarding fashion was the strangest he had ever seen. He left with three trousers and three shirts, as well as two pairs of shoes. It had all cost him 23 Galleons and a Sickle but he still had plenty to spare. He walked out of _Hoppy_ wear a set of his new clothing. His cousin's old clothes were nowhere to be seen but there was a suspicious pile of ash left on the changing room floor.

Continuing on his way back up Diagon Alley Harry quickly arrived at _Flourish & Blott's_. As he entered he found Hermione dragging her parents into the store. She noticed him, and before he could say anything she pounced. "Harry! Did you get a wand yet? Oh I can't believe it! It's just so-" Hermione struggled to find the right word. Her lose of words didn't last more than a second as she finished with "magical!"

Harry smiled at her exuberance and held up his wand, which had hardly left his hand since he got it. "Yes it is." He said with a cheerful grin. "You're getting your books too then?" Hermione shook her head. "No we finished shopping. We have 20 minutes left so I wanted to see what other other kinds of books they have." Harry noticed Eric was burdened by a multitude of very full bags. "Aren't those heavy?" He asked. Eric shook his head with a smile. "Not at all. The Shopkeeper said something about a feather weight charm."

Then it Harry that Hermione had said 20 minutes were left. And he still had three shops to visit. Harry bid them all farewell and left to purchase his school books. Though after seeing entire shelves on subject that fascinated him he vowed to return as soon as he had the chance.

Harry made quick work of his remaining stops. When he entered _Whatnot_, the stationary store, Harry was disappointed not to find any pens, papers, or notebooks, but rather only quills, parchment, and other antiquated materials. He bought what the clerk recommended for a year's supply and his telescope.

The Apothecary, _Slug & Jigger's_, came next where he bought his vials and scales. These he was fairly sure were for potions making but never having made a potion he could not be sure. And last came the cauldron shop where he bought the only remaining item on his list.

Harry felt tired physically, not used to prolonged shopping trips, but his mind was abuzz thinking about everything he'd heard and seen. Self cleaning charms. Shrinking charms. Runes. He'd even passed _Quality Quidditch Supplies _where he'd seen the most magnificent brooms he'd ever seen. _Is there was such a thing as a sweeping broom in the wizarding world? _Also the brilliant lecture he'd received from Ollivander about wand crafting. And, of course, meeting Tonks which he now realized had been his most pleasant encounter with another human being.

One thing that bothered Harry was the bank. He knew he'd be back, and before the school year started at that, maybe even right after the orientation. He didn't know who his magical guardian was supposed to be, nor who his bank manager was, but he needed to know if all he had left of his parents really was their money. It was a lot of money but it left Harry feeling empty. Another that bothered Harry about the bank was the teller. _Aren't goblins supposed to be rude and only care about money? _He thought. But that man behind him had been friendly towards the goblins, and even received such treatment in return. However his clothing didn't seem to indicate anything wealthy about him. _Then again, I have more gold then I could ever have imagined and I was wearing Dudley's cast offs. _The goblin's attitude had changed completely when he spoke to Harry though. _Maybe they don't like children._

As luck would have it Harry had misjudged his time efficiency and arrived at _The Leaky Cauldron _with 10 minutes to spare. Most of his fellow orientation attendees were already there, chatting animatedly, though the Grangers had not yet returned. Harry felt conflicted. On one hand he wanted to join them, to share the experience with them, to be a part of something. On the other hand Dudley had always run off anyone who tried to be friendly towards Harry, and therefore Harry didn't know how to talk to children his own age. He'd been alright with Hermione, but only because she carried most of the conversation. Tonks had been old enough that he could look up to her and get some sense of authority, even through the playfulness. Harry didn't like to admit it but he was in fact scared. Scared they would reject him and that he wouldn't belong.

Harry instead sat at the bar and watched them. From behind him he heard the barkeep ask "Afternoon Mister Lupin. What can I get you?" Harry turned and saw the same man from the bank sitting next to him. "Firewhiskey please Tom." The man answered and a shot glass of amber liquid was placed in front of him. The man saw Harry and gave a sad looking smile. "Hi there Harry." He knocked back the shot and steam escapes his ears as he swallowed. The he belched and a few flames flew from his mouth. Though this surprised Harry it did not squash the frustration he felt at everyone knowing his name.

"Does everyone in this world really know my name?" Harry asked with a frown. The barkeep glanced at him and his jaw dropped. "Harry Potter? Blimey! I can't believe it." Harry was glad it was said in a whisper. He could do without the attention of the whole tavern.

Lupin, as Harry now knew he was called, turned to face him. "I'm afraid, Harry, that everyone does indeed know your name. It was unfortunate, the circumstances that led to that, but were really are all grateful that you are the Boy-Who-Lived." Harry scowled and declared, "I'm starting to hate that pseudonym. How do they even know I did what they say I did? Were there witnesses?" The barkeep, Tom, spoke up. "Well sure. Dumbledore took you from the house himself. Never wrong, that man." Lupin sighed and shook his head. "No one is infallible, but people don't need proof to have faith."

Harry pouted. Already aggravated with the subject he decided to inquire about his earlier thoughts. "How come the goblins treated you differently from me? Is it because I'm not an adult?" Lupin froze and looked a little sick for a second. He opened his mouth to respond but a barked laugh from Tom cut him off. "Goblins don't care what age you are. They're nasty even if you're bringing in gold. Only people they don't snap at are werewolv-" Lupin coughed loudly. Tom's eyes widened and covered his mouth too late at his slip of the tongue.

"You're a werewolf then?" Harry asked uncertainly. Lupin glared darkly at Tom but then his eyes melted into sadness. He tossed a Galleon onto the counter. "Not intentionally." He said. He got up and walked away without another glance at Harry. Tom called out after him. "I'm so sorry Mister Lupin. I just-" Lupin was gone out the door of _The Leaky Cauldron _before he could finish. Tom looked at Harry with remorse. "You'd be kind not to mention that. It's not common knowledge among the younger folk, and Lupin's had enough grief as it is." Tom walked away not giving Harry a chance to respond.

Harry was conflicted. Were werewolves as dangerous in reality as they were portrayed in the non magical world? Did they turn into hungry beasts during the full moon? Surely a man as kind as Lupin couldn't be a monster. _Not intentionally. _Lupin had said. _Perhaps he does turn into a monster on the full moon but wishes he didn't. Still, is he safe to be around? _Harry concluded that he probably was safe company any time other than during the full moon. Of course Harry couldn't help but notice his question was still unanswered. _Why are werewolves and goblins friendly?_

Just then McGonagall stepped into the tavern and started motioning the others to gather around her. Harry hopped off his bar stool and drew closer to the group. "Are we all here?" She called out. Hermione and her parents chose that moment to rush in. Hermione's arms were full of books and she was panting. "Alright, now we shall head to the ministry for registration. Any who receive a letter have a file on record, but you must be register to be considered a citizen entitled to benefits and services of the wizarding world." She held up a jar which had within it a sparkling powder. _Don't tell me, that's pixie dust. _Harry thought wryly. "This is floo powder. Take a pinch between your fingers and throw it into the fireplace. The flames will turn green. You must step into the flame and say _Ministry of Magic _clearly. Don't worry the flame will not burn you so long as it is green. But the floo powder won't last so don't take too long."

Everyone stared at her as if she were mental. McGonagall sighed. She took a pinch of powder and proceeded exactly as she had instructed. The flames roared and engulfed her, seemingly turning her into ash as her form was sucked into the coals at the bottom of the fireplace. The group continued to stare at the spot where she had disappeared. Then less than a minute later her form sprouted back out of the coals and stepped into the tavern once more. She once again held up the jar and offered it to the group. "Remember to keep on foot forward to brace yourself on arrival."

One by one they disappeared through the fireplace. It was Harry's turn to grab a pinch of powder. He threw it into the fire and watched it turn green. He stepped in and said as clearly as he could, "Ministry of Magic!" and was then whooshed away in a torrent of green flames.

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**Woohoo! Sorry I left you guys hanging so long. Nothing has gone right in the past few months and I'm still dealing with more troubles. But I didn't want to abandon you guys completely. Next chapter will probably be slow coming but I'll do my best to keep the wait to a month maximum. Reviews help motivate me, even if its criticism, so please review.**


	7. Book 1: Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 7**

**Guardian Trouble**

* * *

The world spun around him. Harry wasn't sure if he was falling or shooting upward but it looked like he was rushing along a narrow chimney. He saw fireplaces whizz by and occasionally could make out what was on the other side. Shops, living rooms, sometimes even people. Abruptly the rushing stopped and a fireplace stood in front of him, showing an enormous hall lined with more fireplaces, and with a golden statue in the center. He suddenly felt himself propelled forward and, forgetting to put a bracing foot forward, he tumbled out of the fireplace in a burst of green flame.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. What is the purpose of your visit today?" Harry heard a bored and nasally voice say from above him. He quickly removed himself from the floor and smoothed out his new clothing before looking up. A young man wearing large square spectacles stool waiting behind a desk. He held a clip board and a quill in his hands. When he signed impatiently Harry gathered his wits. "Oh right. I'm here for registration." The young man turned his nose upward and looked down it at Harry. "Muggleborn?" Harry nodded hesitantly. Tonks had referred to him as such. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant. Logically he assumed it meant he was born from muggles, which was what magical folk called non magicals. However, Aunt Petunia had told him his mother was a witch, and McGonagall had confirmed his father was as well.

The young man pointed his quill towards his left where Harry spotted the rest of his group standing near what looked like a row of elevators. "Stand over there and wait for your escort." Harry nodded again in thanks and headed for the group. Still reluctant to join a large group of children his age he chose to simply listen. He managed to at the very least glean their names from the conversations around him. Currently there were four boys, not including Harry, and three girls. There was a somewhat tall and fidgety boy with dark hair whose name was Justin Finch-Fletchley. The others seemed to take pleasure in playing with his tongue twister of a last name. The next was a dark skinned boy named Dean Thomas, who was very talkative. Then there was Samuel Roper, who preferred Sam if you please. And lastly, Kevin Entwhistle. A very bright sounding boy who only spoke up to make a clever remark or provide an insightful opinion.

For the girl there was the very excitable but taciturn Lisa Turpin. Her eyes wandered everywhere and she had a constant smile plastered on her face as she practically bounced in excitement, but she spoke only a few words here and there. Sally-Anne Perks on the other hand practically carried the entire conversation by herself. She kept her head held high and spoke with pride and confidence. And last of the girls, other than Hermione who had just then emerged from the fireplace, was Rebecca Rivers. Had her name not been Rebecca, Harry would have guessed she was a boy from her clothing, short hair and attitude.

Soon the group was complete and finally McGonagall joined them. "Alright then. Now that we are all here let us be off. Follow me please." And they did. She led them towards the elevators and ushered them in. They all managed to squeeze in but it was a tight fit. The doors opened onto level 1 and they exited the lift into a busy hallway. They passed room after room with absurd or strangely specific monikers such as _Ministry Damp Tablecloth Closet _or _Forgotten Toothbrushes. _Eventually they arrived at a set of double doors which read _Registrations. _Following McGonagall through the door they found an extremely long room with stall upon stall of tellers, each one witch a different sign hanging over them. They ranged from sensible stalls like _Magical Items _and _Magical Pets_, to ludicrous yet surprisingly frequented stalls like _Crossword Puzzles _and _Artificial Limbs._

McGonagall led them to a stall that had only a few couples with happy young children waiting in line. The sign read _Magical Children. _The stall right next to it had a far less happy vibe. It was titled simply _Squibs. _There were three children about Harry's age or slightly older in line, all scowling at the line next to them. Harry felt incredibly sorry for them. The font of the sign was so clinically the same as all the other signs that it made the dismissal these children were receiving seem casual. He recalled Ollivander saying they did in fact have magic but could not channel it through a wand. McGonagall had said there were other foci besides wands but had not mentioned specifics. Harry wondered if any might work for Squibs.

The new students were told to enter the line and answer the teller's questions honestly as this would be the beginning of their record as witches and wizards. McGonagall once again held Harry back from following. "Harry you have been registered since you were a child. Normally it is rare to see signs of magic before a child is 2 years old but with you it's hardly a surprise. You technically did not need to come to the Ministry but I did not want to separate you from the group early. It is good to get to know your fellow students." McGonagall gave him a warm smile of encouragement.

Harry, though, knew he did need to be here. Not for registration apparently, but Hornbrow had told him his parent's belongings, as well as the identity of his magical guardian, were Ministry business. Harry drew a breathe, not quite sure what to ask. He settled for the most important question. "Professor McGonagall, would you happen to know who my magical guardian is?" McGonagall adopted a pensive look. Then she sighed, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not Mister Potter." Harry wasn't ready to give up though. "Then do you know who might be able to tell me?" McGonagall nodded but seemed to hesitate before speaking. "I cannot leave my charges. It was my decision to invite you to the orientation. I believed you would benefit from it. But you are technically not in my care as you are not muggleborn. If you continue down the hall you will find the Inquiries Department. They should be able to answer you question."

McGonagall pulled from her robe a small sack which she handed to Harry. "Here is some floo powder. It is likely that when you finish we will already be back in Madame Jagmitten's. In order to floo back to the Leaky Cauldron you must say Diagon Alley. Do you think you can find your way on your own?" Harry nodded slowly.

McGonagall looked towards the rest of the group. "The rest of Orientation involves getting to know your fellow muggleborns so that you may share your magical experiences and learn of our world together." She rummaged in her robes again and handed Harry a train ticket. "In case I do not see you again before September 1st, this is your ticket for the Hogwarts Express. You'll find it on platform 9¾ which can be reached by walking through the barrier between platform 9 and 10." She smiled kindly at his look of confusion. "The barrier itself is an illusion but will feel solid to any who do not know of magic." McGonagall gave his shoulder a squeeze before join her other new students.

Harry exited the _Registrations _room and continued further down the corridor. He reached a very similar door that read _Inquiries. _And inside he found a very similar room. Booths side by side, each with their own panel above. Harry found the sign saying _Magical Guardianship _and headed for it. Luckily there was no line.

Stepping up to the teller Harry cleared his throat. An older, and not at all pleasant looking, witch sat behind the counter. "Yes?" She drawled, not looking up from whatever magazine she was reading. Harry got to the point. "I would like to find out who my magical guardian is." At this the witch looked up disinterestedly and raised an eyebrow. "And how is it you don't know already?" She asked disdainfully. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the unhelpful question. "I grew up in the non magical world." He replied. She looked back down at her magazine. "Ah muggleborn. In that case it would be your Deputy Headmaster. I assume you'll be going to Hogwarts so it should be Minerva McGonagall."

Harry knew he himself wasn't muggleborn, but he was getting tired of how dismissive and disdainful wizards and witches were towards non magicals. "I'm not a muggleborn. My name is Harry Potter, and both my parents were magical. But I grew up in the non magical world and I don't know who my magical guardian is." He said impatiently. This got her attention quickly. Unfortunately it also got the attention of everyone else nearby.

People started crowding around him. Yelling at each other as toes were stepped on and people pushed. Both Harry's hands were shaken by multitudes of people and he was pushed and pulled and fought over. All the while questions were fired at him left and right. How did he survive? What happened to the Dark Lord? Was Harry scared at the time? Did he really fight off a hoard of ogres at the ages of 6? Did he have any plans for marriage yet? Finally Harry pulled his arms free and hugged them close to his chest. "E-Enough! Leave me alone!" The crowd stopped and stared at Harry. No one moved a muscle until a voice rang out. "You heard him people. Go about your business. Leave the boy alone."

The crowd parted, muttering apologies, leaving only the owner of the voice. A very elegantly dressed man with long platinum blonde hair. In his hand he held a black bane with a silver serpent head for a pommel. He was smiling kindly down at Harry, but despite his gentle smile Harry got the sense that this man was dangerous. Not only could he command a crowd without argument but his muscles seemed tense and ready to pounce at any moment. His eyes did not seem to reflect his smile either. Not wanting to burn bridges due to first impressions Harry smiled back.

"Thank you sir." He said in a small voice. The man's smile widened. "You're very welcome Mister Potter. My name is Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He held out a hand which Harry shook. There was something that didn't sit well with Harry about this man. A certain tightness around his eyes made him seem less than trustworthy. "Now what's this about a magical guardian?" Malfoy asked.

Both turned to the teller who was still staring gobsmacked. She flinched at their attention. "Oh yes. Right. Of course. Just one moment." She said and she hurriedly wrote something on a piece of parchment. She tapped it with her wand and it flew off through a door. From that same door flew out a file folder. When it landed in front of her Harry saw _Harry J. Potter _on the front of it. The witched shuffled through the files until she found what she was looking for.

"It says here that no magical guardian was appointed due to lack of next of kin claiming you. If one was appointed in your parents' will it was either not consulted or there isn't one. You should check with Gringotts about that." She smiled. Or tried to as it did not look natural on her face.

Malfoy spoke up from over Harry's shoulder. "May I have a Guardianship Request Form? I believe I could be of service to this fine young man." He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up at him skeptically. "With your permission of course." Malfoy reassured. The witch handed over a roll of parchment which, upon seeing the hungry look in Malfoy's eyes, Harry snatched up. "Could you explain to me exactly what a magical guardian does?" He asked the teller. She answered as sweetly as she could. "A magical guardian is responsible for all legal matters concerning their charge, as well as managing all financial assets of said charge. They are responsible for the well being of their charge until the child reaches 17 which is that age of magical majority."

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Mister Potter, I assure you that I have only your best interest at heart. If you would allow me I would like to be your guardian. I have a son your age and I believe you would get along very well." Harry shrugged Malfoy's hand off his shoulder. He didn't know this Lucius Malfoy, but he already had one abusive guardian and he wasn't about to chance another. "I'm 11 years old, not stupid. I don't even know you. Who would ever agree to that?" He said with narrowed eyes. He turned back to the teller. "Is it possible to be my own magical guardian?"

The teller forgot about her feigned sweetness and sneered. "It is impossible. One must reach magical majority before being considered an adult." Harry was becoming frustrated. Especially with Mister Malfoy still hanging around behind him. He looked the man in the face and said calmly. "Thank you for your assistance Mister Malfoy but I am no longer in need of it. I wish to conduct my business privately."

Malfoy drew himself up straight and frowned. "Very well Mister Potter. But you should know I'm a very powerful man. You should remember in the future not to cross me." He spun around and walked away, his cane hitting the floor every other step.

Harry faced the teller again. "Can anyone file for my guardianship?" She returned to her bored demeanor. "They may, yes. However your next of kin will always have priority."

_Did she not just say I didn't have one? _Harry thought. "You said earlier I didn't have a next of kin." She sighed. "No I said they didn't claim you." She flipped through some pages and pushed the file towards Harry. "According to your genealogy you are the last of your line. Therefore the next of kin must be found across marriage lines. As you can see, Mister Malfoy himself does not have a claim. His wife, however, may be considered next of kin due to previous ties to the Black family." Harry's eyes widened. His family tree was in front of him and it stretch all the way back to the 13th century to a certain I. Preverell. It also included the family trees of each _Pureblood _family connected to his by blood.

Harry located Malfoy's connection on the page. His great grandmother, Dorea Black, had married his great grandfather Charlus Potter, thus connecting him to the Black family. It wasn't a close connection at all. In fact there was no real connection between the Malfy family and his. Checking the Black line Harry found a few names, each of which had an equal claim to being Harry's next of kin. The names were Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa Malfoy, and Sirius Black.

_Tonks! _Harry smiled. It couldn't be the one he had met as she was much to young to have been born in 1953, but it could possibly be her mother.

The fact that he had no closer connection saddened Harry. Every single one of the Potter line was noted as deceased. Harry knew he had to find someone to accept his guardianship. He had no doubt this Mafloy character would try to take advantage of him if he allowed it. Narcissa Malfoy was not an option and he did not know who Lestrange was. Sirius Black, however, intrigued him. There was a dotted line connecting him to Harry on the genealogy. He figured a double line denoted marriage, while a single line denoted a direct connection such as parent or sibling.

"What does a dotted line mean?" Harry asked the teller. She had begun reading her magazine again and didn't bother looking up again. "It's a legal connection. Most likely denotes your next of kin." Harry rolled his eyes. _Of course, now she mentions that. _He cleared his throat in an attempt to make her pay attention. It failed but he tried anyway. "Do you know how I might get in touch with Sirius Black?" Once again he'd apparently said something worth note as her eyes shot up and widened. Thankfully this time no one else seemed to have heard.

"You can't. He was a Death Eater. He killed 13 muggles and a wizard with a single curse and has been in Azkaban ever since." Harry blinked. "What is a Death Eater and what is Azkaban?" He asked slowly. The witch harrumphed. "Don't know know anything? Death Eater's were You-Know-Who's minions. They killed and tortured people. A lot of them were found to have been under the Imperius Curse though, and were released, bless their souls. The others were sent to Azkaban Prison to be guarded by Dementors." Harry closed his eyes and sighed. He itched to ask what the Imperius Curse was, as well as what Dementors were, but he knew now wasn't the time.

"So what happens if my next of kin is currently in prison?" He asked. The teller huffed exasperatedly. "Well if he's in prision he can't bloody well apply for guardianship or deny anyone's claim now can he? Just take the form, have someone sign it and be done with it!" She sat back and covered her face with the magazine.

Harry thought he would be unlikely to get any more from her but asked a question anyway. "Can you tell me about Andromeda Tonks then?" Again she didn't bother looking away from the magazine. "Not my department." She said shortly. As he stepped away Harry had a thought. He turned back and asked "Can I keep the folder?" Her disinterested voice came from behind the magazine again. "It's a duplicate. It'll vanish within the week."

With the parting words of "Don't let Mister Malfoy have a guardianship form," for which he received a grunt, Harry took is leave of her booth and look for another that might help him. He found the _Communications _stall and was told that he would need to owl Mrs. Tonks in order to get in contact with her. An owl would know instinctively where to reach the intended recipient, even without an address. His next stop in the Inquiries Department was _Lost Items. _He stepped up to the teller, an excited looking man. "Excuse me sir. My name is Harry Potter. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened to my parents' belongings after they were murdered." His throat constricted. _If Voldemort is still out there he will pay._

"Harry Potter you say? My my, I never expected to meet you sir! Thank you so much for what you did." Harry ground his teeth together. "You're welcome. Now my parents' belongings." The teller bowed apologetically. He wrote a quick note and tapped it. Instead of a folder flying back in its place another note returned. "Well Mister Potter, it would appear that no items were reported missing." Harry closed his eyes in disbelief. _Of course not. They're dead. How could they report anything missing? _But the teller continued. "However your house was partially destroyed and it has been noted that Albus Dumbledore was the one to secure it. I believe he would know what became of your parent's effects."

Harry thanked the teller. Why was the Headmaster of his school the one to secure their house? _So I need to check with Gringotts about my parent's will, then I should contact this Andromeda Tonks, after that I will contact the Headmaster. _With that in mind, and a folder with his name on it in his hand, Harry exited the Inquiries Department. He looked back in the Registrations department to check if his group was still there and they seemed to be about halfway through. Harry felt an urge to join them. He did want to belong. To be a part of the group and discover with them. But he had to admit to himself he was scared. Children were cruel, judgmental, and fickle. He much preferred the company of those older than him, as he had discovered with Daniel, Tonks, Ollivander, and even Mister Lupin briefly.

He had got on well enough with Hermione, and she with him apparently. But he as he saw her conversing with Kevin and Lisa he could tell she still possessed an innocence that Harry knew he lacked. Harry had a suspicious nature, questioning everything, while she seemed to swallow up every bit of information in sight and accept it wholeheartedly. Even in a whole new world of wizards and witches Harry couldn't help but feel like an outcast. _It's only my first day in this world. It could just be nerves._

Still, Harry turned away and headed to the lifts, up to the hall with the fireplaces, and returned to the Leaky Cauldron with a call of "Diagon Alley!" He then headed straight to Gringotts, somehow eager to ask questions of the creatures who did not like answering them.

Inside the bank Harry went up to the teller under a hanging sign that read _Management. _"Excuse me, I would like to meet with my account manager please." Harry said politely. The goblin looked up hummed a bit. "And who would that be?" Harry wanted to curse. Did every teller have to be difficult? "I don't know sir. I inherited a vault recently and would like to speak whoever was in charge of this matter." The goblin hummed again. "You shall have to come back with your magical guardian. Official business cannot be conducted with children."

Harry was close to boiling. This magical guardian business was a real pain, and one Harry could hear no more of at the moment. "I do not have a magical guardian. But if you will not conduct business with me then I shall obtain one and see my assets removed from your care." Harry said, barely keeping his calm tone. He started sweating immediately at the glares he received from every goblin within earshot. And their ears were quite large so that was practically every goblin in the bank. _Don't threaten their money McGonagall said. Bad move._

The goblin in front of him leaned forward slowly and bared his teeth. "We do not take well to threats Mister Potter. However, I have it on good authority that you are new to our world so I will let it slide this once." He leaned back as Harry gulped. "It so happens that I am the account manager for the Potter family, as well as a number of other prominent families. If you will follow me to my office, I will answer whatever questions you may have."

Harry nodded mutely but his teeth clenched together. _He knew! He knew he was my account manager and still he tried to stonewall me. _He followed the goblin up a flight of stairs and decided to ask instead of fuming silently. "If you knew you were my account manager why did you try to deny me service?" The goblin, seemingly having calmed down, hummed again."It is not a goblin's nature to accommodate. We are a warrior race, made to dominate. It is hard enough working a counter and serving as bankers to wizards, while they regard us as inferior. Letting them do so without challenge is inconceivable."

"So why are you being polite to me now?" Harry wasn't about the let his resentment go right away. The goblin's answer was polite again. "All goblins are capable of being polite, Mister Potter. Most simply choose not to be. I believe it is the same with humans, no?"

The goblin held open a door, allowing Harry to enter and followed him in. The goblin sat behind a desk on which sat a gold placard. And carved into it in a blocky script was the goblin's name. _Ninetoes._ Harry didn't have to guess where that name came from. Ninetoes motioned for Harry to sit in front of him.

Harry took the offered seat and mulled over the goblin's word. Though Harry understood the explanation he was still irritated. He also remembered that they did not act the same way towards werewolves and decided to keep asking questions while the goblin was still willing. "Why is it that goblin's are friendlier towards werewolves? Aren't they just wizards who change once a month?"

Ninetoes glazed at Harry and drummed his clawed fingers on the desk. He seemed to come to a decision and sighed. "The origins of goblins is not common knowledge mister Potter. In fact no wizard has ever been told this. The werewolves themselves do not remember as they do not live as long as we do, nor do they have the same oral traditions. They, like wizards, are simply content to receive what they believe is due them. The actual reason for our camaraderie is that both goblins and werewolves share the same creator. A creature by the name of Sokar."

Harry was confused. He wasn't sure if he was hearing a goblin creation myth or actual history. Daniel had told him of the many creation myth throughout the world, all sharing some details while still being vastly different. In any case, what really confused him was why he was being told. "If the goblins have never told a wizard, why are you telling me now? Wouldn't you be afraid of me telling others?"

Ninetoes stiffened. "While I accept that possibility, I would rather our conversations remain between us." The goblin hummed but in a more defeated manner. He looked Harry in the eyes. "Mister Potter. Every year the wizarding world introduces a new wave of muggleborn wizards and witches. And every year we, the goblin nation, hope for reforms in the ways of the wizarding world. A less elitist society, if you will, so that relations between the magical species can improve. Especially now it is imperative." Ninetoes took a deep breath.

"You, Mister Potter are something of a blessing. Or so some of us dare hope. A powerful wizard, both magically and politically, who has the perspective of a more accepting, more liberal world beyond that of magic." Harry looked away. Both because he was embarrassed by the goblin's play on his ego. And also because he couldn't bring himself to correct the goblin's misconception about how accepting the non magical world was. Something Ninetoes said rang alarm bells in Harry's head though.

"Why is it so imperative now? And what could I possibly do? I'm just a boy." Ninetoes looked very serious. Though it seemed impossible for a goblin to look anything but serious. "The why is a discussion is for another time. Speak no more of it." He hummed dully. "Mister Potter. My intention is not to pressure you. Our leaders hope you, or any qualified candidate, might take on the desire to change the wizarding ways of your own will. And only once you have gained some standing, will you be presented with further knowledge of why it is imperative to unite the worlds." Ninetoes hummed thoughfully. "I believe I have revealed too much to you today. I may even be reprimanded for it."

Harry sat back in his chair. Questions about his parents and their will were still present in his mind but he felt somehow this was more important. "So, I don't need to do anything right now? Just wait?" Ninetoes nodded. "Yes Mister Potter. Go about your life. But know this. If the wizarding ways do not charge, it will spell disaster for the entire planet." Ninetoes' teeth bared again in something akin to a smile. "Now what actual business did you wish to conduct today?"

Though Harry was eager to ask about his parents, he couldn't help but feel reluctant about the change in subject. He felt that being given only vague hints about a potential threat was possibly worse than not having known about it at all. He accepted that Ninetoes would probably say no more about it and moved on. But he really beginning to resent cryptic answers.

"I was told to check with you about whether my parents left a will or not." Ninetoes nodded. "They did indeed. Though a lot of what you inherited can only be touched upon reaching the age of 17. Titles, deeds and the like. The vault you visited earlier today was a trust vault. It is filled every year to provide for anything you might need. The majority of the Potter wealth lies in vault 129, along with heirlooms and whatever else has been placed there over the years by your family. This vault will also be inaccessible until you reach age 17 or if you are escorted by your magical guardian, should you obtain one."

"Speaking of which." Harry said. "Was a guardian not appointed in the will?" The goblin nodded hesitantly. "There were several names mentioned. Unfortunately all were indisposed for one reason or another. Peter Pettigrew was reported dead by your ministry. Sirius Black was sent to prison. And Remus Lupin is by law not permitted to have sole custody of a child. Frank and Alice Longbottom were also named but currently reside in the Permanent Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo's Hospital."

Pettigrew didn't ring any bells but Sirius Black certainly did. And Remus Lupin might be the Mister Lupin he had met earlier but that would be a strange coincidence. "Why was Sirius Black mentioned in my parents' will? I was told he was a Death Eater or something like that."

Ninetoes shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. We did not concern ourselves with who followed who during the war. We kept strictly neutral as all sides would need our services regardless of who won. I can, however, tell you that Mister Black was often seen in the company of your father James Potter. I would guess they were at the very least friendly." Harry hated conflicting information. He had to move forward though. It was nearing 4 o'clock and he had other business still.

"Honestly, I am in need of a magical guardian. I was told at the ministry that almost nothing can be accomplished in this world without one. Unfortunately this man named Lucius Malfoy seems to have taken an interest in applying for the position." Harry bemoaned.

Ninetoes nodded and hummed shortly. "Yes, very unfortunate. I can't help with this matter though. It is strictly wizarding business." Harry deflated a little bit. He hadn't come here expecting help with his magical guardian anyhow but he had hoped one might have been appointed through his parents' will. He couldn't really think of anything else to ask but made one last effort. "Would you be able to tell me anything about a Mrs. Tonks? Andromeda Tonks? and also-" Harry leafted through his folder and found his genealogy, "Bellatrix LeStrange. They, and also Narcissa Malfoy, and Sirius Black are equally qualified to be my next of kin. Though I'm not too enthused about Malfoy or Black."

The goblin frowned. "I believe Andromeda Tonks is you best option. Though she is not high profile in the goblin world anymore, she was at a time. I also believe she was stricken from the Black inheritance due to her choice of a muggleborn husband. Bellatrix Lestrange on the other hand is just as indisposed as Sirius Black. She was caught red handed torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity."

Harry gulped, glad he'd escaped that one. Now it was only a matter of Mrs. Tonks accepting him as her charge. Otherwise it was a one way ticket to the Malfoys. Harry still recalled that hungry look in Lucius Malfoy's eyes at the sight of the guardianship form. For all Harry knew he couldn't have already submitted one. That thought caused Harry to rise. "Thanks for seeing me uh-" Harry was suddenly unsure if Ninetoes was really the goblin's name as he'd never introduced himself. The goblin smiled, in the goblin fashion, and shook Harry's hand. "Ninetoes is my name. I hope I'll be seeing you again Mister Potter."

As Harry left the bank he came to a realization. There had in fact been an agenda for the goblins. Ninetoes wouldn't be getting in trouble. In fact Harry believed, whoever the leaders of the goblin nation were, they had put Ninetoes up to the task of piquing Harry's curiosity and driving him in a certain direction. What Harry wasn't sure of was what exactly that direction was.

Harry found his way to Eeylop's Owl Emporium. Outside they advertised their mail service, which allowed you to rent an owl for sending a letter. However they also had a large selection of owls for sale on display. Harry wasn't sure which option would suit his needs best. Renting a couple owls would allow him to send his two letters immediately. But what if he needed to send more letters later? Who would he need to write to later exactly? Well for one he might need to reply to letters. But would he be able to take care of an owl? Could anyone really take care of an owl?

He asked the shopkeeper exactly how one would go about caring for an owl. The response he got made his decision for him. Owls were independent. If you gave them occasional affection and treats they would make excellent companions, however they got their food and drink on their own. Harry passed a white snowy owl that looked at him with longing. It was beautiful, and not a minute later it was his. He place her cage in his trunk and set her loose. He watched her follow him from above and decided to name her later.

He sat at a table outside a café, ordered a glass of milk, and set about writing his letters. Now realizing he could only send on at a time he concentrated on his plea to Mrs. Tonks.

_Dear Mrs. Andromeda Tonks,_

_My name is Harry Potter, and though we have never met you are my next of kin. I unfortunately find myself in need of a magical guardian as one was never appointed._

_I would not ask this of you were it not for the situation I find myself in. I believe a certain Lucius Malfoy is currently applying for my guardianship and I am concerned_

_for the security of my assets should he be given the responsibility._

_I plead that you consider._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Harry didn't know if it was good. His language was mature for his age, he knew. But he needed to be taken seriously. As he sent the letter off with his new owl he immediately regretted it. Andromeda may not be a Malfoy, but her sister was. Why that fact had taken him so long to process he did not know. Well if he did end up with Malfoy as his guardian he could always try convincing Ninetoes to freeze his accounts or something.

Choosing to not worry about it for the time being, Harry went off to Madame Jagmitten's to see if the group was still around. When he arrived he found the children all talking to each other while McGonagall and the parents all stood off to the side having their own questions for the elder witch. Harry knew he would be more comfortable among the adults, but he also knew he was unwanted there at the moment. This was his chance to try his hand at making friends for the first time in his life. _Here goes nothing._

He stepped as confidently as possible towards the group and was quickly spotted by Hermione. "Harry! Where have you been? I panicked when you disappeared. Professor McGonagall said you had other business to attend to." Harry opened his mouth when the black boy, Dean he recalled, spoke up. "Well don't keep him to yourself Hermione. Introduce him." Hermione blushed and faced the group.

"This is Harry Potter. My parents and I met him a few days ago. He'll be going to Hogwarts too." Hermione led him closer to the group by his sleeve. The boyish girl, Rebecca, laughed. "We know that Hermione. He's been with us all day. Until we left the ministry that is. Then you had your little panic attack." The rest of the group joined in the laughter while Hermione blushed some more.

"Why did you leave anyway? Didn't you need to register with the rest of us?" Rebecca asked. Harry cleared his throat self-consciously. "Well, as it turns out I'm not actually a muggleborn. My parents registered me when I was a baby." Eyes widened all around the group. Sally-Anne gave a heavily sarcastic laugh. "So that's why you left us huh? Too good to be with us lowly muggleborns?" She glared at Harry.

Lisa Turpin took her hand in support while Rebecca spoke up. "Forgive her. She just learned that, the Wizengamot being a pureblood establishment, there is no room for a muggleborn politician, much less a female one." Sally-Anne harrumphed. "I'm not giving up that easily. You'll see."

_This must be what Ninetoes was talking about. _Harry thought. With old pureblood families transferring power through lineage there was little hope of for any reform every occurring. The Potters whoever, being a very old pureblood family, might have hope of making a difference. _In any case I still can't do anything right now._

"I actually had some guardianship issues to deal with. That's why I left. Muggleborns have Professor McGonagall as their magical guardian until they turn 17. But since I'm not a muggleborn it's a little bit more complicated." Harry felt the need to explain himself, though he didn't want to go into all the details. He had been right about children his age. They were very judgmental. "Oh really?" Hermione asked in surprise. "Did it go well?" Harry shook his head sadly. "It's still in progress." He said uncertainly.

The conversation passed from subject to subject, touching on the courses of Hogwarts, potential careers in the magical world, and the confusing currency. Then came along the topic of magical experiences before receiving their letters. Kevin had apparently once spilled ink all over his father's white button up shirt just before he had to leave for work. Miraculously the ink had dried up instantly and not left a stain. This set the group off to share what each had experienced in turn.

Rebecca's parents had forced her into a skirt for her birthday, and it had changed into trousers. She told the group she was allergic to girliness and refused to wear skirts. She had in fact, just like Tonks, taken Madam Malkin's uniform with the trousers rather than the pleated skirt. As it turned out, Samuel was the only one who had opted out of the optional uniform.

Sam as he preferred, and made sure everyone knew it well, told them a great tale of his fighting bullies off a younger boy, and though he fought hard it was five against one. Just as he was about to lose the fight all of their trousers ripped and fell off. All five of them ran off crying.

Justin meekly admitted he hadn't done much magic. Except one time he had accidentally dropped a coin into a storm drain and it had jump back up into his hand.

Sally-Anne feigned humility but everyone could tell she was proud of herself. She had not studied for a test one time and could not remember any answers. Suddenly all the correct answers found themselves written in her handwriting. She blushed a bit as she admitted when it had been returned to her with a perfect score the answers had then vanished and she still didn't know them.

Lisa spoke in a soft voice and told them how she had been in a car accident where the entire right side of the car had been flattened. Her father, who had been driving, had died instantly. Even her mother, who was in the passenger side, had received a serious head injury, multiple lacerations, and even lost her right pinky. Lisa herself on the other hand had not a scratch on her. She reassured the group that her mother had recovered, was happily remarried and was standing with the other parents at the moment.

Dean, hoping to alleviate the tension, told them about a time he had been taking a shower and his clothes had been taken by his young siblings as a prank. He'd had to cross the entire house to reach his room, and when he'd gotten there his mother was making his bed. When she'd turned to look at him though she looked right through him as he'd somehow made himself invisible. Everyone had a good laugh at Dean's predicament, even Lisa.

Hermione told the group, as she had told Harry, that once she had broken a half dozen plates accidentally. She had started crying and the plates magically reassembled perfectly.

It was Harry's turn to finish off the stories and he thought about recounting his experience with making the wrapper burn. Though as Harry listened to all their stories he realized none of them had done anything on purpose. He chose instead to share the time he'd turned his substitute teacher's wig blue.

When the time came to leave an hour later, Justin made a request. "Guys, I know it's probable we won't all be in the same house. But could we all agree to stick together and support each other no matter where we end up?" Sally-Anne nodded in agreement. "That's a brilliant idea Justin. We've seen how dismissive wizards can be when you don't come from magical origins. I think we'll need to stick together." The rest of the group nodded as well, each agreeing to look out for each other should they need it.

Harry left to enthusiastic goodbyes and see-you-soons, and he returned them in kind. He walked out of Madame Jagmitten's with a happy smile on his face. It left though as soon as he heard a screech. His new owl was already back, and she carried a letter. Looking around to make sure none of the non-magical passers by were paying attention he stroked his owls feathers and accepted the letter. On the front was written simply _Harry Potter. _Harry tore it open.

_Dear Harry Potter,_

_Please meet me in the Leaky Cauldron immediately._

_We have much to discuss._

_Andromeda Tonks_

Harry blinked. Had she known he was here already or had she assumed he had some kinda of magical transportation? Either way, Harry was now on his way to his 4th visit to the Leaky Cauldron today. He hoped it would be his last. He was getting rather tired.

* * *

**Unexpected update! I just started writing and couldn't stop.** **Pleeeease review. I've gotten a lot of Story Alerts which is flattering but I genuinely want to know what you think. I'm still getting used to shifting my writing style from screenplay to novella.**


	8. Book 1: Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: See Profile**

**Gate Builders Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Chapter 8**

**August**

* * *

Harry told his still unnamed owl to wait for him outside. She perched herself on the sign that read _The Leaky Cauldron _and Harry hoped she would still be there when he reemerged.

Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron Harry swept his eyes over the establishment. He had no idea what Andromeda Tonks looked like, or even if she was in the building yet. Then he saw someone had realized he knew exactly what Andromeda Tonks looked like. When Miss Tonks in the robe shop had changed her appearance she had never really changed her face. And sitting at a table in the back of the Leaky Cauldron was that same face, only older and surrounded by long straight dark brown hair. The face that had appeared cute on the younger Tonks became exceptionally beautiful with age.

Cautiously he stepped towards her. He gain confidence with every step he took. By the time he reached her his head was help high, his back straight, and he was ready to challenger her the same way he had Lucius Malfoy. He would not relinquish anything his parents had left him, even if it was only money. Regardless of who ended up his guardian, he would protect what was his. Andromeda Tonks looked up at him and saw his defiant stare. She chuckled. "Mister Potter I presume. Sit down. I'm not going to eat you."

Harry deflated a little bit at her playful attitude. He was sure Tonks was either her daughter or at least a close relation. He couldn't let him guard down though. After all, Tonks may have been nice, but Malfoy had seemed so as well at first. _But his eyes. _Harry thought. _Shrewd and cold. Like a hawk looking for prey. _In contrast the playfulness he'd seen in both Tonks and Andromeda seemed inviting. Harry waited for her to make the first move.

She leaned forward and her chuckles subsided, even her smile diminished a little. This was serious business for Harry too. "Your letter shocked me quite a bit. But as soon as I regained my senses I headed straight to the Ministry and applied for your guardianship." She was certainly straight forward thought Harry as his eyes widened. He didn't know what to make of it though. He didn't know her motivations.

"So you're my magical guardian then?" He asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice. She leaned back and shook her head. "It's not that easy. I've applied. It should take at most a day but only if we're lucky. If Lucius tries to fight it-" She left the thought hanging but Harry knew it would be bad. He still needed more though.

"Do you mean if Narcissa fought it? You have the same claim as we're tied by lineage. Lucius shouldn't have much of a claim at all." Again Andromeda shook her head. "No, he shouldn't. But you have to realize he is one of the most powerful men in the political world. If he called in a favor or slipped some coins into the right pocket he could get just about anything. I just hope he didn't consider it an immediate concern."

Harry wasn't particularly reassured. He also couldn't tell if she was trying to gain his trust or simply speaking honestly. "How do I know you aren't just after my money as well?" He asked with narrowed eyes. Her eyebrows lifted. "You think it's your money Lucius wants?" Harry frowned. _What else do I have he could want? _"Isn't it?" He asked, now uncertain.

Andromeda shook her head with wide eyes. "No Mister Potter. The situation is much worse than you realize. It's you Lucius wants. He has more money than he knows what to do with, yours would mean nothing to him." Harry's eyes also widened. He had assumed it was the money Lucius had hungered for because Harry had previously had none. Suddenly having money had made Harry feel a little protective of it, especially since it came from his parents, so it hadn't occured to Harry that he himself help some sort of value. "Why would he want me?"

Andromeda looked around the tavern slowly, making sure no eavesdroppers were about. She leaned in and Harry instinctively did too. "Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater. He claimed to have been Imperiused and was able to buy his way out of a trial." Harry didn't quite make the connection right away so she continued. "Death Eaters served You-Know-Who. The dark wizard you are famous for having defeated." That clicked. Harry's eyes grew wider than ever before and his mouth hung open in something between a gasp and a silent scream. The thought of asking what the Imperius was did not even enter his mind this time.

He could not allow Malfoy to have him. Never mind the money. He'd run away if he had to.

He locked eyes again with Andromeda. He'd though about running away now even. She might have been a Death Eater too. He had no way of knowing who was or wasn't. But her eyes were soft and understanding and this calmed his rushing heart a little. She placed her left arm on the table, palm up, and lifted her sleeve to display her bare forearm. The gesture confused Harry.

Andromeda sighed. "Every one of the Death Eaters had a mark burned into their left inner forearm by You-Know-Who. It is known as the Dark Mark and its form is that of a skull with a snake for a tongue." Harry didn't know if he should believe her. After all, as far as he had heard her own sister Bellatrix was a Death Eater. Her cousin Sirius Black was a Death Eater. And her other sister was apparently married to a Death Eater. "How can I be sure you're telling the truth? You're related to three Death Eaters. How do I know you're not?"

Andromeda sat back and glared at Harry. "Maybe I should just let Lucius have you. I can honestly say I've never been more insulted in my entire life." Harry blanched. He wanted to sink into his chair and disappear. He wasn't a trusting person but he needed to learn how to control himself. Today he had antagonized Lucius Malfoy, Ninetoes, and now Andromeda Tonks. Death Eater or not, he should not try to provoke her. Andromeda kept her glare fixed on him until he looked down and muttered "sorry." She closed her eyes and sighed.

"No, I'm sorry. You having no magical guardian clued me in on the fact that you may have grown up completely muggle. I told myself to be patient with you but I can't help but assume some facts are common knowledge." She looked back up at him. "The Black family is very old. And like many of the old families, they believed in the superiority of pure magical blood. As such they followed You-Know-Who. Many more than the three you mentioned did." Harry tried to piece together some things. The old families followed You-Know-Who? _So Voldemort's reign of terror was based on the superiority of pure blood? Is that it? _

"But- From what I've seen pretty much everyone feels that way. Don't they?" Harry asked.

Andromeda frowned. "There are a lot of people who believe those of pure blood are more powerful, better even, than muggleborns. Most however would never even think of trying to wipe them out. Which is exactly what the goal was for You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. I chose not to follow in my family's footsteps. I even married a muggleborn wizard. I had thought my cousin Sirius was also taking this path, fighting along side the Potters against You-Know-Who. I was sorry to hear he had turned." She sighed wistfully.

Harry decided to believe her. She had been honest as far as he could tell. He go no ill vibe from her whatsoever, though he could tell she could be dangerous if she chose to be, and she had in fact warned him of dangers he did not know existed.

"Yes. Those were the days. Weren't they?" A silky voice, followed by a nostalgic sigh, came from above them as a shadow fell over the two. The first thing thing Harry noticed when he looked up was the black cane with a silver snake pommel. He almost groaned as he recognized it. Looking further upward revealed he had correctly identified the person as Lucius Malfoy.

Andromeda glared at the man with such hatred that Harry knew he'd gotten it easy from her earlier glare. _Never get on her bad side. _Harry reminded himself.

"What do you want Lucius?" She said in a voice that carried none of the fire in her eyes. Lucius return the same hate with his eyes but kept a smile on his lips which looks very unnatural. His fingers, however, curled around the snake pommel of his cane as if he might club her with it. Instead he turned his gaze, and smile, towards Harry.

"I have come because I believe Mister Potter is about to make a mistake. You see Harry. May I call you Harry? There are some families in this world who hold a great deal of power. Families that are, simply put, better than others. The Malfoy family is one such family, as were the Potters." Lucius leaned in towards Harry but let his eyes drift to Andromeda's pseudo calm face. "And then there are those who so disgrace the wizarding world that association alone is a social and political suicide. Do you see what I'm getting at Harry?"

Harry couldn't believe the nerve of the man. To so blatantly insult someone without provocation was beyond Harry. He had come to expect such treatment from his Uncle but from such a supposedly high standing wizard it was a surprise. Mafloy looked again at Harry.

"Now Harry. I am a very important wizard in the political field and I believe, with my guidance, you can be too. Will you allow me to help you?" Lucius smile seemed kind but once again his eyes betrayed him.

Harry knew he shouldn't make this man angry, having been told how dangerous he was not a minute earlier. But that very knowledge of the danger made Harry react like a cornered animal. His wand seemed to call to him from his pocket and he drew it, pointing it towards the older man.

"Get the hell away from me Malfoy!" His voice quivered a little. Instantly Lucius Malfoy's smile turned downward. He drew back slowly, his eyes fixed on the wand. He then flicked his eyes to Harry's and spoke calmly.

"If I didn't know this was your first day holding a wand I would feel threatened. As it is, Mister Potter, you have simply insulted me. I did warn you not to cross me. Rest assured well shall meet again and on that day I shall not be so friendly." With a last glance at Andromeda Lucius strutted away, tapping his cane unnecessarily on the ground with every other step.

Harry watched his retreating back with his wand still in his hand before he felt someone else's hand swat the back of his head. With a yelp Harry turned back to Andromeda.

"Idiot boy! Drawing your wand on Lucius Malfoy? He could have easily taken it as a challenge and killed you where you sit!" She hissed, her eyes wide in fear.

Harry's eyes mirrored hers at the revelation. He had reacted on instinct and had not given any thought to the consequences of pointing a weapon, even one that wasn't loaded due to Harry's lack of experience, at a man who may be looking to kill him. Andromeda calmed a little but gazed sternly at Harry.

"The danger has passed for now but know this. Never point your wand at someone you don't intend to curse. Drawing your wand is a waring. Raising it is a challenge. And pointing it is a threat. There are many things you must learn about wizarding etiquette."

They spent the next few minutes in silence, both lost in thought. Harry was becoming more convinced that the Goblins were right. The wizarding world needed change, and lots of it. But he still wasn't sure he would be the one to bring it.

Harry shifted the conversation back to the pressing matter. "Is there anything we can do to make sure Malfoy doesn't become my guardian?" Andromeda nodded.

"Yes. You can write a letter to endorse me as your preferred guardian. I will bring it to the Ministry right away and attempt to speed the process."

During the next few minutes Harry did just that, with Andromeda's guidance. While he wrote he asked her something that had bothered him earlier.

"How did you know I would be able to meet you in the Leaky Cauldron right away?" With the tension gone Andromeda reverted to her playful manner and chuckled again.

"That would be thanks to my daughter. My husband being muggleborn we knew about the orientation and always send Nymphadora for her school shopping on that day because it is less crowded. When your letter came she told me she'd met a muggleborn who might have actually been Harry Potter at Madam Malkin's."

Harry paused in his writing. "Nymphadora? No wonder she wouldn't tell me her first name." Andromeda's glare this time was far less serious and the laugh that escaped her ruined the effect entirely. "Don't tease her for it. I should never have let Ted pick the first name. She is not particularly fond of it."

Harry grinned and finished up his letter. He was now certain he had made the right choice in contacting Andromeda. Now he could only hope that the process went fast enough to keep him out of the Death Eater's clutches. "Here Mrs. Tonks." He said as he handed Adromeda the letter.

She stood up and smiles reassuringly at Harry. "Call me Andromeda. And I hope I can call you Harry." Harry nodded his consent. "I shall send you and owl as soon as this issue is resolved. Either to give you the good news, or to tell you to run." Her eyes turned serious as she said the last part. She walked straight towards the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green flames.

Harry left the Leaky Cauldron for the last time today and headed back toward the hotel where he'd spent the last two days. He grinned at the thought of speaking to Daniel again but then frowned. He couldn't share any of this with Daniel. The magical world had to remain a secret. _Although, maybe this could be my first step towards uniting the worlds? _Harry thought wryly. He was fairly certain Ninetoes had meant uniting the magical worlds but he had not said so precisely. Still Harry thought he should keep as much of it as possible to himself.

He reached Daniel's hotel room and knocked on the doors. Daniel opened the door a crack and poked a curious eye through. He opened the door wider and smiled. "Harry! I was starting to think you weren't coming back." Harry smiled back. "And leave without those books you gave me? Forget it." Daniel laughed and Harry entered. He sat in an armchair and relaxed. It had been a hard day.

Daniel sat on his bed and faced Harry. "So, how did it go?" Harry tried t decide what he should tell and what he should not. He chose to stick to facts but not reveal magic unless he felt he had to. "I uh-I learned who my parents were today. It turns out, they were murdered-" Harry found it hard to continue on that subject. "They left a bunch of money though, so that's good." He forced a grin.

Daniel gave him a sad smile. "Looks like you put it to some good use. Those certainly fit better than your earlier rags." He said gesturing to Harry's new outfit. Then he frowned. Harry knew Daniel could relate to his situation. They had spoken of many things in their time together and Daniel had revealed he'd seen his parents crushed to death in front of him.

"You holding up alright?" Daniel asked. Harry nodded but looked away. He'd never known his parents. Intellectually he knew they loved him. But he had never felt it. And the only thing he had was someone to blame for that. Someone who could create a terrible green light and cackle while he murdered. _And scream like a girl. _Harry thought with a smirk, latching on to what he was sure was his earliest memory. Voldemort's attack on his home.

He turned back to Daniel. "I've also apparently been enrolled in the school they attended at my age since I was a baby. I'll be going there september 1st." Daniel smiled. "That's good right?" Harry nodded. "I'll have to wait and see for sure but I think the curriculum with be fascinating."

Harry cursed himself in his mind. That was not a statement one could leave alone. No doubt Daniel was going to ask questions, and sure enough he did. "Oh? Anything in particular?" Calming himself Harry searched for something to give Daniel without compromising too much. He smiled as an idea came to him. "Well there's a class titled Ancient Runes. Sounds intriguing. It's not offered until 3rd year though so I've got some time before then."

An excited gleam appeared in Daniel's eyes. He jumped off his bed an rummaged through his books, pulling out several. Harry knew of course that Daniel was fascinated, if not obsessed, by languages, dead and living. And anything with the word ancient in it was sure to get him going as well.

"That's a very unusual subject for a school of your level. Most secondary schools would offer latin or greek. Rune are fascinating though." He brought several books over to Harry. "They're phonograms just like the Latin, Greek or Cyrillic alphabets. That is to say each letter has a certain sound. But they're not considered letters because each one had meaning." He opened the books to show examples of several alphabets. Runes were geometric, very simple looking letters. For example there was a sort of angular capital P called Wynn which meant joy.

Their discussion, or rather Daniel's lecture, lasted another hour before Harry's adrenaline from the day wore off and his eyes started to close. That night he had fanciful dreams of dragons in robes and books that read people. As they often did the dreams shifted into a flash of sickly green light and a high pitched cackle. He could hear his mother screaming his name.

"Harry!" _Wait a minute_. That didn't sound like a woman. His eyes fluttered open. "Harry get up." Daniel said, shaking Harry's shoulder lightly.

Harry sat up. He had been too tired to change before sleeping so his new outfit was somewhat wrinkled.

"What's up Daniel?" Harry mumbled tiredly. Daniel looked serious. He looked Harry in the eyes.

"I'm checking out in an hour Harry. I would like to know whether you have somewhere to go."

Harry froze. Did he in fact have somewhere to go? _If you're not there by the time I return don't bother coming back. _Vernon had said. But when would he be back? The conference was meant to last 5 days if Harry remembered correctly. It should currently only be the third day of the conference. Would Vernon have left early? _Probably not._

"I think I do yeah. But I'm not sure how I'll get there." Harry admitted.

Daniel ended up calling a cab for Harry to return to Surrey. He then packed his bags in silence while Harry looked on. Harry wanted to say something but nothing came to mind. He felt he and Daniel had somehow bonded over their short time together and would be sad to see the man go.

They descended into the lobby where Daniel checked out and stepped outside the Hotel to await Harry's taxi. Finally Harry spoke.

"Daniel do you think we'll see each other again?" He said in a soft voice. Daniel smiled at him.

"Well I should think that would be up to you. I don't think too many would appreciate a man my age looking forward to meeting up with a young boy of- How old are you? Nine?" Daniel's tone was teasing.

Harry's face flushed. "Eleven." He answered shortly. He knew he was short for his age but he did have some pride. Daniel nodded.

"Right well how about this. I'll give you the address where I'll be staying in egypt and you can write me. How does that sound?" Harry grinned in return and nodded vigorously.

Soon Harry was on his way back to Privet Drive in a cab Daniel had paid for, and was waving his farewells to another new friend. He spotted his snowy owl following the taxi from above and smiled. The last few days had been overwhelming and Harry could hardly believe all that had happened.

Harry sat lost in thought, mulling over the things he'd learned yesterday. His insides twisted. His parents had loved him, and had died fighting for what they believed. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had terrorized people to the point where speaking his name caused panic. Voldemort himself may still be out there, biding his time, waiting for his moment to strike. And even if he wasn't many of his followers still were at large.

There were two discoveries however that were by far the most confusing to Harry. The first being that the Goblin race had an interest in him. Perhaps not him personally exactly, but he had their attention as a candidate to bring about change. Why did they want change though? As far as he could tell they controlled the entire wealth of the wizarding world. What was so _imperative _that the worlds should need to unite? Harry had no answers and knew he wouldn't until the Goblins themselves chose to share more.

The second most confusing, though happier discovery, was that he now allowed to have friends. There would be no Dudley at Hogwarts. And even if there were, Harry knew he now had the power to defend himself. His fingers dropped to brush against his wand fondly.

Harry did in fact arrive before Vernon, though not by much. As soon as his uncle entered the house he cornered Harry and told him that it was back to the cupboard with him. He was so angry he didn't seem to noticed the absence of Dudley's old rags on Harry.

Harry had only had his own room for a short time and yet he was surprised to find he missed it. The cupboard seemed more cramped than he remembered. Thankfully he was only locked in it for an hour before his aunt managed to calm Vernon down and let him out.

His aunt Petunia continued with her reformed ways in secret while simply ignoring Harry when Vernon was around. This suited Harry fine as he still wasn't ready to forgive her for her past neglect. She still did nothing to help him when Vernon would yell at Harry at the drop of a hat but she sent him an apologetic look every time.

The rest of August passed slowly for Harry. He retook to his workouts hoping to gain a little bit of size before he started school. Harry now had an even greater motivation to be in shape. He may have magic to help defend himself but his attackers now would too and they would probably be more experienced than him. He pushed his limits physically and his reward was aching muscles but he managed to add one more push up every week or so. He also pushed his limits magically and mentally.

He'd had the time to read "A History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot and "Magical Theory" by Adalbert Waffling cover to cover as well as skim his other course books. "A History of Magic" turned out to be incredibly dry and gave only an overview of Magical Britain's history, while just briefly mentioning foreign magical countries. The section covering Goblin Rebellions had interested Harry but this was also rather vague. Citing only a few examples while stating the majority of them occurred in the 17th and 18th centuries.

"Magical Theory" was by contrast very engaging. Harry had read it twice and even written notes in the margins. It explained how spells were comprised of wand motions, an incantation, and intent. The intent gave the magic a purpose, while the wand motion shaped the magic into a proper function. The incantation was actually just a tool to help wizards associate the correct magical pattern with the intent. The book also said a practiced enough wizard could forgo the incantation, and a powerful enough wizard could even force the magic to the correct purpose without wand motions to guide it.

Harry thought that might be what he was doing with his magic before he discovered his wand and noted so in the book. He had spent time testing his wand out, at first with actual spells listed in his "Standard Book of Spells", and later simply forcing his intent through the wand like he had been doing before. The wand conducted his magic more efficiently, and so he found himself less tired than when done things without it, but it was still much easier to cast a spell using the correct motions.

The folder he had taken from the Ministry had indeed vanished within the week. He had leafed through it multiple times but other than his genealogy, which he'd copied onto a sheet of paper, there was little else of interest. There was his magical registration form signed by his parents and some Ministry employee. His birth certificate which named him Harry James Potter, son to James Tiberius Potter and Lily Cassandra Potter née Evans, was also in the folder. The rest seemed to be a whole lot of bureaucratic mumbo jumbo that made little to no sense in Harry's mind. The folder dissolved into nothing four days after his return.

His owl, whom he'd named Cassandra after his mother, came regularly to his window. He had not sent any letters to his new friends but he was glad for her company nonetheless. He wondered how the others were doing and if they were as excited as he was.

He did receive one letter two weeks after his trip to London which told him Adromeda had been given magical guardianship over him. She would not be seeing him again this summer but hoped to have time with him on his next holiday to "talk business". She also informed him she would be sending her daughter to escort him on September 1st.

Harry watched the days pass impatiently. Petunia had told Vernon she had enrolled Harry in a boarding school in Scotland and he would be collected on the 1st. Vernon had protested the cost but she had claimed he'd been accepted on a scholarship. Of course, that wasn't a lie exactly since that's what Harry had told her. She was kind enough to buy him a set of ball-point pens and several spiral-backed notebooks, as well as a very plain and old looking brown satchel to carry them in.

Though he probably would never forgive her for her inaction he was still grateful. In return he chose to do her a kindness and wrote a note explaining what he had seen and heard from Vernon during the trip to London. The night before his departure he left it on the kitchen counter, knowing she would be the first to come across it.

When the 1st of September finally arrived Harry was dressed in his uniform, though without his robes or pointy hat, and had his shrunken trunk safely in his pocket. He skipped breakfast and was remarkably not asked to cook it. When the doorbell chimed Harry was racing down stairs immediately and calling out to the house "I'll get it!"over the shouting match he could hear going between his aunt and uncle.

He practically threw the door open in his excitement and found a middle aged woman standing in front of the door looking serious. Confused, he was about to ask who she was, but then he grinned instead.

"Hello Tonks."

Her mouth dropped in surprise and her face morphed back to the one he remembered. "How did you know?" She asked breathlessly.

Harry giggled lightly and pointed an accusing finger at her outfit. "I don't figure too many women consider Hogwarts uniforms the latest fashion." Tonks looked down at herself and slapped her forehead.

"Stupid-" She mumbled and then swatted his shoulder.

"Hey! What-" He began but she interrupted him. "Just Harry my arse! You're Harry bloody Potter! You could have told me." She pouted.

"Yeah well you could have told me your name was Nymph-" Tonk lunged forward and covered his mouth with her hand.

"Don't you dare." She said with narrowed eyes. When he nodded she let go. "Right then. You ready to go?" She said straightening herself up and looking over his shoulder. "Where's your stuff?"

Harry pulled his trunk out of his pocket. Tonks gave him a grin. "Smart lad. Ravenclaw I'm telling you. Off we go." With that she hooked arms with him. Suddenly Harry felt like he was being squeeze through a tube. The pressure seemed to build up until finally it was released with a loud pop. Harry opened his eyes, which he had unwittingly closed, to witness Tonks stumble forward.

"You alright Tonks?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. A bit clumsy is all. Lost my balance." She smiled reassuringly. Harry frowned. "But, how can you lose your balance standing still?" He asked confusedly.

Tonks waved his comment away. "Never you mind. Now, welcome to King's Cross Station. Let's get to platform 9¾."

At that Harry looked up and realized they were no longer at #4 Privet Drive. _Teleportation? _He remembered he appeared on the roof of his school once but he had thought perhaps he'd jumped somehow. Did every form of wizarding travel have to be so uncomfortable? First the dizzying floo and now this tube sensation. He very much hope the so called Hogwarts Express was a train and not some sort of roller-coaster. Not that he'd ever been on a roller-coaster.

Once they reached platform 9 Tonks stopped Harry. "Alright now watch me and do exactly as I do. Good?" Harry nodded.

Tonks walk straight at the arched barrier between platforms 9 and 10, and swiftly vanished into it.

* * *

**I was planning to drag this one out to the sorting but it was getting long. There's a new vote guys. Go to my profile and up at the top you will see a poll. This vote only affects the story starting in Book 4 so it will be up for a while.**


	9. AN: Sorry, I'm abandoning this

Well that's it. You don't want to hear about my personal life so I'll spare you the details but for a multitude of reasons I no longer have any motivation to write.

I'm sorry to those of you who were enjoying this story. Maybe some day I'll start again but I doubt it.

If any of you want to pick it up you are more than welcome to take anything you like from what I have on here. I have plenty of notes if you want to know where I was going. I'll keep my plot bunnies up on my profile for you writers needing ideas but I'm done.

Sorry again to all of you who had kind words to share about this story. Thank you for your support.


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